


Limits

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: True Beta [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alpha Peter Hale, Beta Stiles Stilinski, Biting, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masochism, Stiles Stilinski Accepts The Bite, Stiles Stilinski Wants The Bite, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Trans Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Biology, but it's not a big deal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-12-04 22:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11564406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: Stiles has fallen from the man he used to be, pushed to the edge by the monstrous nature of Beacon Hills as well as a strained relationship with Scott and his pack. When he hits his limit, he takes his future into his own hands, and Peter finally gets what he's been after for so long.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles isn't the man he used to be, and when he believes he needs to kill Peter for the good of the pack, he uses it as an excuse to do what he's been wanting to for years. Never mind the fact that the rest of the pack was against it...

Peter receives a voicemail from a frightened Lydia Martin.

"Hey. Um... I wouldn't be calling if I had _any_ other choice, (obviously), but I can't get a hold of Scott and I just saw something go into my garage, something very... not human, and it looked way the hell too much like a Kanima for my tastes. Can you..." she sighs, "can you please just... come see? I'm gonna try to get out of here, go to Stiles's, but I really don't wanna be afraid to be at home any more than usual."

Peter frowns and sighs once he's done listening. Jesus Christ, why do supernatural disasters always have to happen when he's about to have dinner and a nice glass of absinthe? But Lydia wouldn't have called him, of all people, if it weren't urgent and he knows the girl is smart enough not to toy with him. He might be an ally to the pack these days but he's still Peter fucking Hale. Grabbing his car keys and a bag that would make Chris Argent proud, he leaves his apartment.

Stiles has it, like most things in his life, carefully considered and planned out. He leaves the garage door slightly ajar, scratch marks where the handle should be, and the handle on the ground. He waits in the small loft, motionless and slow breathing to quiet his pulse, keep him near-silent even to the ears of a wolf. Thanks to a little help from Deaton, he's also as scentless as he can possibly be. 

It's actually the scentlessness that throws Peter off a little bit. Kanima have a very specific scent - something he’s known ever since Jackson happened and he gathered as much information as werewolfly possible in his personal library. But maybe it's not a lizard, maybe it's something else. Doesn't mean he shouldn't check it out. And there's definitely a heartbeat in there, even if it's a little bit too weak to belong to a human. Slowly and carefully, Peter moves inside.

When Peter gets just far enough inside, a large ring, about three feet across and made of rubber tubing drops onto the floor, surrounding him. The tubing is filled with mountain ash, and once he's sure the trap has worked, Stiles begins to descend from the loft, smirking and wielding a silver blade.

The wolf realises what's going on the second he sees Stiles. "A silver blade? Really Stiles? Bit dramatic, isn't it?" Peter looks around, subtly checking for a way out. "Where's Lydia?"

"I have no idea, I set her and Derek up for the night to keep each other busy. Plus I know I can count on _him_ to keep his mouth off of her." He twirls the blade by the handle. "You know, I've been thinking about this for a _really long time_."

"Jealousy is a great motivator but an awfully bad reason." Peter smirks but his aquamarine eyes are wary.

"Jealousy?" He laughs, "No, no, jealousy's not a motivator. It'll make this sweeter, sure, but that's not why I'm doing this." He licks his lips and comes right up to the ring, perhaps too confident in its ability to keep him safe.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night, boy." Eyeing the blade, Peter frowns softly. "Am I supposed to be scared of this little thing, by the way? You're human, you won't even get it through my sternum."

"Oh, I'm not gonna stab you with this. Gimme some fucking credit here, would you? I've been running with wolves for a while, _thanks to you, of course_ , I know the drill." He gives a long, satisfied sigh and reaches his free hand into his pocket, where he pushes a button on a small remote. It triggers a small device in the rafters which tips over a large container of gasoline onto Peter.

Peter freezes the second the liquid hits his clothes and skin. That scent reminds him far too much of how he died the first time and his mind is immediately going places he never wanted to think about again. But he forces himself back, running a hand through his hair like the vain bastard he is. "Finally someone who gives credit when credit is due. You're welcome, Stiles."

“You know this is _your_ fault, right? I mean, if you'd never tried to turn me, none of this would be happening. But you did, and it’s _finally_ time for me to make things right." He retrieves another object from his pocket, a small piece of flint. "Boy scouts showed me lots of ways to get a fire going. Wanna see how many times I have to strike it to get a really good spark?"

"I'd say twice, you've always been good but never good enough to be perfect," Peter growls out while he swallows. "What I don't get is why you're doing this _now_. I mean, it's not even my birthday."

"Because you were right when you picked me out, I'm the best damn beta there is." His eyes narrow, his smirk returns. "Do you still think about it? What I could've been to you? I do. I think about it a lot, actually. What I would've done if I had claws and teeth and an asshole like you for an alpha. I can say this much - I wouldn't've waited this long to take you out."

"Well, technically you didn't. You already took me out once. Didn't work out so well though, did it?" Peter grins, his mind still racing in regards to how he might get out of that mess. "I came back. And in case this little bonfire of yours will actually happen, I'll just come back again."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm actually hoping so. See, I've got your grave all planned out, too. Like I said, give me some fucking credit." Stiles lifts the blade and flint, striking it once. It sparks, but he's intentionally too far away to run any risk of anything catching.

"You still haven't answered my question, Stiles," Peter mentions, his voice low and still surprisingly warm. "Why now?"

His gaze meet Peter's, and he forces down that insistent stirring he always feels when he takes a minute to let himself look into those aquamarine eyes. He swallows, looks away briefly, regains himself. "Because I'm the best beta there is, and Scott needs you gone. That's really all there is to it."

"No, it's not. Because if that were the case you would have killed me months, maybe even years ago. We both know you could have done it. We both know you would have done it that night even, if Derek hadn't stepped in." His tone is wrapping around Stiles like a blanket, warm and understanding because they're so damn alike.

"Scott's spent a lot of time not knowing what's best for him, and I used to just listen and do as I was told. But these days..." he shakes his head. "These days, I'm having to get a little more proactive. Scott needs you gone. I'm going to get rid of you."

"You're hiding the truth," Peter says calmly. "You might be smart enough not to lie but you forget who you're talking to, Stiles. I can still hear it."

He hates it just about as strongly as it feels good, and he gives an ambiguous, strained sigh. "Scott needs you gone, because he needs Gerard, and that man drives a hard bargain."

 _Of course. Well played old man, well played._ "Lemme guess, Scott doesn't know you're here and you have no intention of wondering if I could help you and Gerard if is just a liar, because he's a hunter and I'm a wolf."

"Maybe you could help him," Stiles shrugs. "I don't really know, and I don't really care. I've been needing an excuse to do this for a long time. But, just to be clear, you think a pack of wolves is siding with a hunter and against another wolf... due to bias?"

"You guys are not a pack of wolves or you wouldn't be even in it, so you should probably be grateful for that," Peter says with a sadistic smile. "And I'm a very special kind of wolf."

"Special's a word. Not the word _I_ would use, but sure." He strikes the flint again. Another flawless spark, still intentionally not close enough. "I'm going to light you on fire next time I do that, and then I'm going to watch you burn. Any last words?"

"Lydia likes it hard and deep so I hope you're packing for the sake of your _love_."

" _Oh fuck you_ ," His voice is darker than it's been all night, his eyes all the more determined in what he's doing. Peter's never spared an opportunity to suggest the depth of his intimacy with Lydia when she unwittingly resurrected him, quite likely because it always makes Stiles spike with jealousy. This time, he gets the flint against some of the gasoline that's spilled outside of the ring, and **spark**.

The fire flares up in an instant and yeah, there's definitely fear in Peter's eyes, visible and right out there in the open for Stiles to see before the flames and the smoke separate them.

Stiles stands and backs away a step, careful of the heat. He knows what he did is wrong, he knows he's going to hell purely based on how satisfying this is, but he doesn't care. Finally terrorizing and murdering the man responsible for ruining the lives of all of his friends is too fucking sweet.

There's only one problem with that. Peter wouldn't be himself if he hadn't had an ace up his sleeve the whole time. The fire is burning him but please, if he's used to any kind of pain, it's that. After all, this is his fourth time on fire now. Growling loudly, he starts pushing against the barrier and through the fire, his hands the only thing Stiles can see. Well, that and the intact mountain ash barrier giving, just like it had when Scott became an alpha.

Okay, so surviving the fire hadn't been something Stiles had planned for, but some disruption to the barrier, allowing him to break out, actually was. He swallows thickly and takes several steps back until he's up against a large tool chest. Still facing Peter, he reaches behind him and pulls a revolver loaded with silver bullets.

"Oh, I would think about that twice if I were you." Peter's voice is suddenly echoing through the whole garage and as the fire dies down more and more, his face - already regenerating itself - becomes visible. The barrier is crackling more and more and right before it breaks apart completely, red eyes flash towards Stiles, burning even brighter than the flames.

_Shit_. Not that he's listening to Peter's advice on self-preservation. Stiles aims the weapon, his hands and heart unusually calm for the situation, and his eyes trained on the... _alpha wolf?_

"Not fast enough." Peter is already right in front of Stiles within the blink of an eye, pushing the gun upwards and then ripping it out of his hand before he throws the fragile human directly into the garage door. "That's why you'll always be a sidekick. You should have taken the bite."

His pulse picks up, a response to the pain, but his expression stays even, determined. "When the fuck..." he whispers to himself. "What, back when you offered it, or from Scott? Because neither was ever happening back then."

" _Back then_?" Peter grins. He's almost naked and shakes off the remains of his clothes. But his skin is already perfect again. "Sounds like you'd take it now." Picking up Stiles at his neck, he holds him at arms length. "You know what's funny? When I became an alpha again I was ready to keep it down. To let Scott and you guys do your thing, to be an ally, helpful, making sure the humans in this town are safe. No more revenge, no more war. But apparently you're not interested in peace."

It's like it's just not in him anymore to be weak or afraid. He holds Peter's gaze, still hardened. "You're a monster, Peter Hale. You always have been, and you'll always go back to it. The nice thing is a phase, and no one else sees it, but I do. Takes one to know one, as they say."

"I was a monster when my family left me to die and I was alone and away from my pack for seven years. While being in pain. I died. I became a monster again when the last remains of my family and pack left me once more and I attacked the boy who was threatening to take my home from me. But that's it Stiles. And you know it."

"Until the next thing happens. I know what this life is. It turns all of us into monsters if it doesn't kill us first, you more than anyone else. So what's it gonna be, Peter? If you're gonna kill me, just fucking do it, otherwise quit wasting my time with your bullshit redemption story."

Peter smiles. "You owe me, boy. I'm the only reason you guys were able to beat the nogitsune. I'm the only reason you made it out of the wild hunt. I'm the only reason you're not as much of a monster yet." He crushes Stiles's windpipe just enough to make it hard for the boy to breathe and talk. "And I'm not going to kill you now, no. You're going to spend the rest of your days knowing you're alive because I decided to be a better man than you. Because I decided to spare you after you tried to murder me. Oh, and so you can look up what happens if a natural born werewolf is also a spark."

'Not as much of a monster yet' - the phrase clearly resonates with him, apparent by the small smirk, the slightly raised eyebrows, as if to say 'Oh, he gets it'. He doesn't try to speak, just keeps focusing on drawing in breath, and tucks away Peter's revelation for later. _If_ he can find information, that'll certainly help him be more successful next time.

Unceremoniously, Peter drops Stiles onto the floor, looking down at him and flashing his eyes once more. They're definitely red but there is so much more movement and energy in them than in any other alpha he's seen. "Next time you come to me, I might just bite you, so you better think twice."

Stiles coughs, breathes heavily when he finally gets air again, but he looks up to meet Peter's gaze again. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Peter smirks and winks. "No." And just like that, he walks away.

Stiles doesn't stop him, he knows he's lost the battle and that as long as he doesn't do or say anything stupid, he can survive for another. But, of course, his mouth has always been dumber than the rest of him. "I'm still gonna have to pay the old man. Maybe he'll take Derek instead."

Peter doesn't look back. "If you harm my nephew for the sake of your golden boy-friend, I'll kill your father myself."

Yeah, okay, a predictable move and one Stiles probably should have seen coming. But he's not done. "Kill my dad for my sins? Yeah, that's definitely a Good Guy move there."

"So is using Derek, who has been in love with you for ages, to save your best friend." Now, Peter turns his head. "You know, you could have just asked for my help and told me what's wrong with Scotty."

Stiles gets to his feet again, brushes himself off, taking the second to compartmentalize that comment about Derek's feelings, he'll deal with it later. "Haven't we established yet that I'm not trying to be a good guy anymore? I thought setting you on fire, of all ways I could try to kill you, would have been a tip off there."

"Feeling hate and regret doesn't make you a bad person, Stiles." Peter looks at him with pity in his eyes. "You'll get there someday but not like this."

"Not like this?" He scoffs. "And don't deflect. Either you've been redeemed or you haven't, so which is it? You gonna go after my family if I go after yours or are you gonna go after the source?"

"And the source would be... you?" Peter chuckles. "Stiles, you're far too interesting. I want you, I don't want you dead."

"You want me? For what?" Finally he's getting to something he can use - he might think himself no longer _good_ , but he's far from evil enough to hurt Derek.

"You'll find out soon enough." Peter chuckles and then falls forward, transforming into a huge, black and fascinatingly beautiful wolf.

Unsurprisingly, that's more unnerving than him standing naked and humanoid. His heartbeat picks up and his throat goes dry but his expression stays aloof, irritated.

The wolf leans back and howls, a sound powerful enough to resonate with every supernatural being in the area. And then Peter just leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has had more than he can take and talks himself into something that will change his life forever. It gets a little more complicated when he finds he has to talk Peter into it as well.

Stiles took the scenic route to Peter's, buying time, trying to talk himself out of it. He circled the block several times, then parked down the street to give himself the walk. But it was no use, he's too angry, too jaded, and he's been thinking about this way too fucking long.

 _One last chance_ , he tells himself on the way up the stairs. _Once you get up there, that's it, no going back_. And the last-ditch effort of _Dad will be so disappointed_.

Almost two hours after Scott set him off, he's finally at Peter's door. He knocks, his body moving while his brain is still caught on trying to talk himself out of it.

Peter knows it's Stiles before the boy even enters the apartment building. But he's still surprised to see him when he opens the door. Because they both know what he said last time, right?

"Are you alone?"

"No, I brought a fucking marching band. Does it fucking smell like I'm alone?" Stiles sounds irritated and pushes his way past Peter, into his apartment.

Peter growls, sharp and loud, gripping Stiles's collar and ripping him backwards. "I'm not in the mood to deal with your pubescent allures. Here's the door, you little shit." Within seconds Stiles is outside again. "Things have changed, if you want something you gotta ask for it. Respectfully." _And be glad you've got magic in your blood as well or my runic wards would have knocked you unconscious, little idiot._

A tirade of rage-filled words fills his throat, but with a short breath, all that comes out is a calm but seething, "You're not Scott," like a reminder he needs to hear out loud to remember. A deep breath this time, his tongue darts over his lips, a tiny nervous tick. The reminder seems to have helped, as the murderous look on his face when Peter denied him is dissipating. "Can I come in?" There's still an edge to his tone, but it's obvious he's trying be respectful.

“Yeah. Gimme a second." Peter places his palm on the door frame and a rune glows for a few seconds. "Now you can. This way you're actually allowed to enter and won't set off my warding totems." He steps back and trusts Stiles to close the door behind himself while he already walks towards his open kitchen. "Water? Coffee? Red wine? Tea?"

"Vodka?" It's intentionally ambiguous as to whether he's joking or not, but as soon as he's finished closing the door, the realization hits. "... Actually... yeah. I mean, I guess you'd have no reason to keep liquor around, but it'd be kind of nice to get almost-drunk one more time. Guess I should've thought of that earlier."

Peter arches an eyebrow. So someone wants the bite after all. "With me as your alpha you're actually going to learn something. For example, that absinthe laced with wolfsbane causes an excellent buzz. Have a seat." He starts the kettle.

Stiles does as he's told, a feeling he's used to, and one he thinks he'll fight a lot less if the one giving the orders isn't an idiot. "I was gonna say something about how it'd be sort of messed up to poison myself just to get drunk, but then I remembered what alcohol is." He smiles softly, trying to lighten the tension in the room, which is almost entirely his.

"See, one of the reasons I picked you, you're a smart cookie." Peter gets out two mugs, milk, sugar and his French press, as well as some coffee beans and herbal tea. Making sure Stiles can choose whatever he feels like he needs.

"I'm listening."

"What, are you my therapist now?" Stiles rolls his eyes, looks away, and wills himself to stop being such an ass. It doesn't do much good. "You'd take his side anyway, so can we just skip the part where I pour my heart out?"

"No," Peter replies calmly, bringing over the tray with their drinks. "As you already said, I'm not Scott. You'd do well to remember I'm not Derek or Lydia either. We're not friends, Stiles. So pull your head out of your ass and talk."

He scoffs and meets Peter's eyes, challenging. "He left me behind again because I'm 'just a human'. Sound like something you'd do?"

"No," Peter says again, pouring himself some coffee. Stiles is right, he's not his therapist. "Just talk, boy, it's not that hard, you do it all day long usually."

One more deep breath and Stiles leans back in his seat. "You're an asshole." The statement is perfectly matter-of-fact, and he moves on immediately. "I'm tired of being treated like I'm weak, and if I need some claws and teeth for people to understand that I've been strong this whole time, then fine, I'll get some claws and teeth."

Smiling, Peter leans back as well, taking a sip from his coffee. "To be honest, I think becoming a wolf might actually do the opposite of proving your point. I mean, if you were strong you didn't need the transformation, did you?" Of course he knows that's not what Stiles is talking about but he wants to make sure Scott's best beta knows why he's getting into this.

He's staring up at the ceiling as he swallows and partially changes the subject. "None of you would get it, it just _happened_ to all of you. But at least _I_ know that making this choice is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I know my own strength, I... usually have. And I guess... I guess I don't care if people see it or not, I just..." He sighs, something unburdening, "I want the power to exercise my strength. I don't want to be held back anymore, especially not by people who are so constantly screwing up."

Peter's smile widens ever so slightly and he nods. "You want to be who you really are, not the person your surroundings, social circle and physical limitations have forced you to be for so long."

He rakes his teeth over his lower lip and nods. "Yeah. And... I'm not leaving the fight - I can't, protecting Beacon Hills is in my blood. But I'm really fucking _done_ with being Scott's beta-when-it-suits-him. So if I'm going it alone..." Stiles pauses, readjusts his wording. "I can't go it alone. My options are break from the pack and get myself killed even faster than a lone wolf would, or become someone else's beta. I'm gonna pick the one where I live to keep fighting."

"Have you thought about asking Scott for the bite? Maybe not now but in general?" Peter asks softly, listening closely to Stiles's words and his heartbeat.

"Technically, yes?" He laughs gently and raises his head to look at Peter again. "I've usually dismissed it right away because of Scott's general hypocritical bullshit about how important my humanity is while also being the very thing that makes him think I'm useless - well, that and my lack of tits. And... thinking about it more..." Stiles smirks, like he knows that he's about to sound like an asshole. "I'm hedging my bets, I guess? If Scott gives it to me, I'll never feel like I can leave him even though I'll probably want to. If _you_ do it, I'll have no problem walking away from you, but I'm pretty sure I'll never want to."

That last sentence makes Peter perk up and he tilts his head. "What happened to you would have killed me a while ago and probably will?"

"I still kind of want to, in all honesty. But that has nothing to do with how you would treat me. Actually, I um..." he hesitates a second. "I think you'll probably take me more seriously and treat me better than... anyone. Ever. You're still an asshole, and a monster, and I'm just counting the days until you up and murder someone again. But I have this twisted faith that you'll be really good to me, even if generally you're terrible."

 _If only you knew._ Peter takes another sip from his coffee and stays quiet for a moment. "You know you could die because of this, right? The bite could kill you."

"It won't." He thinks about just leaving it there, but decides to take the opportunity to jab at Scott. "If the awkward, dumb-but-well-meaning asthmatic kid from my 10th grade class can survive your bite, I can too."

Peter shakes his head. "It's not about your body, it's about your spirit. But I see your point." He looks at Stiles and absently licks his lips. "Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"You're kidding, right? You don't actually believe any of my friends care enough about my autonomy to let me be here if they knew, do you?"

"Lydia," Peter suggests softly. "She wouldn't like it but she wouldn't lock you up either, would she?"

His voice goes very quiet, almost regretful. "She wouldn't need to. The look on her face would be enough to keep me from it."

"Then why are you here and not with the girl you've loved half your life?"

"Because the girl I've loved half my life can't give me the power to keep her or anyone else safe regardless of what Scott does."

That's a very good reason and Peter nods, agreeing with that statement. "Sucks to be right all the damn time." Slowly, he sets down his cup and gets up, walking to the window. "I'm not even going to pretend I haven't been waiting for this. But..." He looks back at Stiles over his shoulder. "You set me on fire."

Stiles gives a half-shrug, like he doesn't know what to say. "That's... true? So, you need some kind of vindication or something?"

"No," Peter replies a third time that day. "I need you on your knees, begging for what you want from me."

He has a very you-can't-be-serious look on his face as he sighs, irritated. "Yeah, I've done enough of that shit with Scott. It's not happening. You can either bite me because we _both_ want it, both want me to be the start of your new pack just like I was meant to be all those years ago, or I can leave and figure something else out. I'm clever, I'm sure something will come to me. But I am _not_ begging, not for this, not ever."

"Understood. There's the door, show yourself out." Peter doesn't even look at him.

This sigh is more resigned, and he stands. "Yeah, I sorta figured you wouldn't keep your word about this. Worth a shot at least. You don't happen to know of any other packs in southern California, do you?"

"I do but I'm not going to send them a murderous kid who's too proud to go down for his alpha. We don't trust each other Stiles and if you're not willing to sacrifice something for me, this won't work out. As you said, I wanted you all those years ago. I've accepted that I would never have you."

"First, I trust you - with me, anyway, more than either of us probably realize. And second, you're not my alpha, you're some asshole trying to get me to degrade myself for you. You're not my alpha until I'm a wolf."

"Other way around: I won't turn you into a wolf before I know you can and are willing to go down for me."

"Go down for you? I came here because I'm sick of my alpha putting me down, and you want me to jump into another relationship with a guy who does _the exact same fucking thing before I'm even his_? No. It's not happening."

Peter sighs and stops himself from rolling his eyes. "That's the whole point, I'm not _putting_ you down, Stiles. I'm asking you to prove to me you can go there for me. Because there's no way I'm going to bite someone who's sick of being a beta and just wants power."  
"I'm not **even** a beta, and that's what I'm sick of. I'm like... I don't know. No, I do know. I'm the pack's pet human. They pull me out to do tricks and then shove me back in my cage. I don't want that anymore. I want to actually be... something. Anything."

"I get that, Stiles." Peter finally turns around and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "But if you don't trust me to be better, if you don't trust me to respect and honor your submission, I won't have a beta either. I don't want to have to use my alpha voice every time the full moon hits. I want you to actually respect me."

"... and I have to beg you to be allowed to serve you, to prove I respect you?"

"Yeah, because we're both huge fucking assholes and last time I checked you wanted me dead. Did you really expect me to just take you in because you're smart?" _Pack means family and you don't want anything to do with me, if you're honest._

"I expected you to hold good on your threat regardless of my actions or feelings." _I expected to be forced into submission, because somehow that's easier._

Peter shrugs. "You can come back when you actually wanna be with me and I'm not just your revenge tool."

That word choice strikes him, but it takes a second for him to piece out why. "Did you notice we're both using language like this is..." He shakes his head, decides it's stupid. "I'm gonna go. Sorry I wasted your time."

"A relationship? Yeah, I know. You'd be my first beta, the first and most important link in my new pack," Peter explains quietly. "I've lost too many of those links to just give it away easily, I actually want it to mean something, otherwise I'd rather look for someone else or stay alone.”

"Why the hell does that make me feel like this?" He's quiet, honestly didn't mean to say that out loud, but he doesn't know how to follow it up.

Peter pushes himself away from the window he had leaned against and smiles crookedly. "Same reason I don't wanna be just the less damaging poison."

"I've thought about it since you offered it to me, wanted you since I got put in Eichen House." He doesn't know why he's saying this, but at least this time it's intentional. "W-wanted the, um, that- I mean this type of relationship. With you. Not, like," he just stops, quits before he completely puts his foot in his mouth. "Everyone in this whole mess is poison, you and I included. Maybe especially. But I think... maybe we're sort of... each other's antidote."

"So show me you actually want _me_ and not just the bite," Peter suggest softly, coming closer.

Stiles doesn't move, doesn't really feel like he can, in either direction. "If Scott asked... No, if Scott begged me to take it from him, I don't think I would. I don't want to be his, he lost his chance with that." He pauses as his eyes travel over Peter. "It's not just about the bite, I want to be yours."

Standing in front of Stiles, Peter gets his claws out on one hand and uses them to gently stroke over the boy's cheekbone and neck. "I said show me, not tell me. You're too good at not telling the truth these days," he demands, his voice still soft and almost warm.

He takes that as a compliment, as evidenced by the small smirk it elicits, but then focuses himself. "Please, Peter." It feels so wrong, such a betrayal to his younger self. That kid would be so disgusted by what he'd become. "Please, Peter, I want to be your beta. I want to be the foundation of your pack, like I was meant to be." No 'like _you_ wanted me to be' this time. His wording is intentional.

Peter grins and leans in, close enough so Stiles can feel his breath on his neck. "I said _show_ me."

Stiles carefully strips out of his shirt, his pulse suddenly spiking with the action. It leaves a large expanse of flesh for Peter to choose from, an offering of his body. "I'm yours, your beta, you decide where I'll always remember your teeth."

He wants to ask what happened to 'You're not my alpha until I'm a wolf' but that would only rub it in. Peter takes a deep breath and inhales Stiles's scent. "Turn around," he orders softly.

Stiles just complies, no more words, no other gestures. He tilts his head to offer up his neck, making an assumption.

Peter grins. "Smart boy." Placing his hands on Stiles's hips, he holds him close, close enough they're almost touching, and then digs in his wolf teeth in, in an almost sensual but no less painful manner. _Mine._

Those hands on his hips causes his heart to race, brings about a slight scent of arousal. The bite makes that so much more intense. He lets himself cry out, mostly pain with an undertone of want, and reflexively he pushes his body back, fully against Peter's, rather than pulling away.

_Fuck._ Peter can't help it, his grip tightens and he doesn't let go, pushes his teeth into Stiles's flesh even harder. At least he manages to will his cock down while he turns a little more, his wolf getting stronger.

The added intensity makes him whimper and feel like he can't draw in more breath. He doesn't have the space in his head to consciously acknowledge or fight his arousal, his cock responding as his whole body is pulsing with pain and need and blood. "Yes! Yes, Peter!" He finds the strength somehow to gasp out again, and his hips actually grind and roll back against the werewolf.

The sweet, musky scent evaporating from Stiles's body is like an aphrodisiac to Peter's wolf. Especially with the biting. He growls and pulls back his jaw carefully but keeps their hips close, letting the boy grind against his finally hardening cock. "I've got you. Just remember to breathe, Stiles."

He tries, really really tries to just keep his breath steady, but it's so hard with all the conflicting things his body is trying to do. It's urging him to fuck something while at the same time assessing his need to go into shock, and none of it leaves room for him to think properly. "Thank you, thank you, Peter," he whispers softly as he leans into his arms. "Alpha."

Peter's wolf just wants to howl and he barely manages to hold back. Instead he growls again and licks over the bite mark, wrapping his muscular arms fully around Stiles's waist. " _Mine_."

He straight up _moans_ at the feeling of Peter's tongue this time, and melts into his arms, his body finally giving up trying to be strong. "Am... am I supposed to feel like this?"

"How do you feel?" Peter asks roughly, licking again. He can smell Stiles's arousal but he still wants to hear him say it.

It's a whimper this time, and his hips twitch. "I want you. I _need_ you in ways I've only ever had dreams about." The accidental admission slips out.

God, it would be so easy to take advantage of Stiles now. Not just bite him but also fuck him into submission forever. But Peter prefers manipulating people into begging him for it instead of taking what he wants. Too easy. "It's okay, Stiles, as I said, I got you. I'm going to take care of you. I can feel it too and it's just our wolves liking each other. It'll pass."

Stiles laughs softly at the thought, can't help it. "So my wolf is gay? That's an interesting twist, I was sort of counting on just the opposite."

"Most wolves don't care about gender, it's about connection more than anything else," Peter explains, licking some more blood away from Stiles's bite mark.

He moans, "God, Peter, that's too good," and pushes back against him again. "I don't think I can follow through with what our _connection_ is suggesting."

"No one says you have to," Peter murmurs reassuringly but he doesn't do anything to stop Stiles from grinding against his cock.

Which is good, because he definitely doesn't stop, not until he asks if they can sit down and, more fearfully, "Will you stay with me until we know for sure?"

Peter can actually already smell that his bit took but he nods and pulls Stiles against him anyway. "Of course." Absently, he runs his fingers through the boy's hair. "Do you have an idea how you're going to tell them?"

As sure as he is that he's going to survive, there's always this small doubt, persistent in everything Stiles ever thinks or feels, to varying degrees. "No idea. I was thinking of just... not? I'm pretty good at just not telling people things and letting them find out if necessary."

"They will smell and feel it pretty quickly." Plus, Peter loves the idea of watching Scott realize all the ways he fucked up at once.

Stiles nods, "So, you think it's okay to just... show, not tell?" Already he's looking for guidance.

"I think telling would be a little less dramatic but it's perfectly fine to let them figure it out on their own." Peter grins. "Can I watch?"

"I think it's probably only right that you're there, don't you? My alpha staying close, making sure I'm safe while I deal with another pack?"

Fuck. _Another pack._ Peter downright purrs. "I never thought I'd hear you say that, to be honest."

Something strange and fast and too strong for him to resist comes over him, and he moves to straddle Peter's lap. His heart is beating steadily, but so hard. "I should have said this twenty minutes ago, and it's already done, but I want you to hear it anyway. I want you to have those words, my voice, in your head." He leans in, lips close to Peter's ear, and quietly begs. "Please, Peter, give me your bite. I need you."

Peter's eyes flash red without him even thinking about it. " _Stiles_ ," he hisses sharply.

He continues, "I'm going to be everything you wanted me to be. We'll be so perfect together. Only you can tap into and utilize my strengths properly, and only I can balance you and keep you grounded. Scott never did that for me, and has never had that from any of his betas. We're already a superior pack, Alpha."

He definitely likes what's happening even if he's not sure what exactly that is. Stiles suddenly seems to be a different person and Peter wonders if he'll stay like that or if it's just the bite making him needy and almost... high? "You can use my name, Stiles."

With a small smirk, he comments. "Yeah, I know," and he rubs downward in Peter's lap. The bite is definitely doing something to him. "Do you want me to stop using your title?"

Peter takes a deep breath. "No. But I want you to stop dry humping me, boy."

Stiles blushes a little at the realization that he'd even been doing that and pulls back, smiling nervously. "Sorry."

"Better." Peter takes another deep breath to centre himself. "Tell me how you feel."

"My neck hurts." He starts like he's really thinking about it, has to actually focus to take an assessment of himself. He's a guy who's used to shutting out a lot from his body and mind. "I'm thirsty, my head is killing me, I can't stand the idea of being more than a few feet away from you, and I'm more worked up than I've ever been, even counting the times I was actually fucking someone." Which, okay, he’s never done, but still.

Frowning softly, Peter places his palm on Stiles's shoulder and takes the pain like it's nothing. But the wound is not what has him wondering. "You wanna stay close?"

He nods. "Yeah. Really bad. I'd probably find myself following you around like a puppy if you went out of my line of sight."

_Christ._ "Well, in that case I think you just gotta hold on while I get you some water to drink." Peter tries to sound casual but his mind is racing.

With a little smile, Stiles reluctantly gets off of Peter and settles down on the couch. "Thank you."

Peter grins crookedly and ruffles his hair. "Good boy. I'll be right back." He gets up and gathers a few things, water, pain meds, some protein bars and some comfortable clothes of his. "Here." He throws a cashmere sweater at Stiles. "Put this on."

The bite certainly hasn't entirely changed him yet, as the sweater just kind of hits him. He's got his eyes on Peter the whole time, save for the half a second the shirt covers his eyes when he puts it on.

"I know it took a few years more than you wanted but... I'm... I really like that it's happening this way. If I'd had to do this alone, scared, confused... I don't think we would've had a very good relationship."

"And now you think we will?" Peter hands him a huge glass of water next, together with the pain meds. "They won't help for long but longer than what I can do," he comments absently, watching Stiles take them.

He nods in response to the question as he takes what Peter gives him. When he finishes swallowing the pills, he nods again. "A lot better than we would have, anyway. I won't resent you, hate you, or blame you for ruining my life more than I already do, at least."

Chuckling softly, Peter nods. "I guess that's a plus. How do you feel now? Is anything changing?"

"No... not... really? I still feel kind of sore, still pathetically horny, and... well, I guess now I feel less inclined to follow you like a puppy, and more inclined to keep you where I want you like a sheep dog?" He laughs a little. "So maybe a touch more predatory, I guess."

It's a start. "Are you in pain yet? The next full moon is pretty close, I'm surprised you're not changing a little or feel your wolf wanting to get out."

"Are we sure I even really have a wolf yet? I think it took a while for Scott." Stiles remembers something and huffs, bitter. "Maybe that's what the libido is about."

"What do you mean?" Peter sits down again and picks up his coffee once more. It's cold but still good.

"Scott got... all over Lydia right after he turned." He definitely still sees it that way, anyway. "Maybe increased libido is part of how the wolf changes you. I guess you probably wouldn't know since you've had it all your life, everything about it feels normal."

"That's an interesting idea, we'll see if you stay horny or if it's just something that has to do with the transition." Peter licks his lips, thinking about Stiles grinding against him before.

Stiles is definitely thinking about it too, and shifts a bit as if to adjust his pants. "Will it hurt?"

"Turning for the first time? No. Your first full moon? Yes." shrugging, Peter tries to make it clear that that's something Stiles doesn't have to be worried about. "But I will be there and protect you the whole time."

He sighs, resigned to whatever's in store for him, and sips at his water between staring at it contemplatively. Eventually he sets the empty glass down and stretches out on the couch with his legs in Peter's lap.

Peter chuckles. "Are you comfortable?" Apparently any concerns or fears Stiles ever had in regards to him are long gone.

"Not particularly," he chuckles softly and readjusts some more. He closes his eyes for a minute, just to rest them and try to think about something other than the aching in his neck or pants. The next thing he knows, though, light is shining far too brightly in his eyes, and he opens them to find that it's morning, and _Holy shit, have colors always looked like this?_


	3. Chapter 3

"Rise and shine." Peter is holding a steaming mug of fresh coffee out for Stiles. "You can shower once you’ve had breakfast. Your metabolism needs the energy so I made some... things."

Stiles pushes himself up to sitting and takes the coffee, still feeling a little disoriented. "Breakfast... yeah..." he blinks and tries to get the world in focus, not quite realizing the problem is that it's more in focus than it's ever been.

Peter just smiles and walks back to the kitchen, plating some bacon, eggs, fruit and french toast. "Can you smell what I made without looking?"

"No?" It's an automatic response, comes out before he even tries. "I mean, umm... Well, bacon, that one's obvious, they can probably smell it in the hallway." He considers, the trick being putting a name to the scents rather than actually picking up on them. "A lot of eggs, sugar... is that nutmeg?"

Grinning, Peter nods. "Not bad. Now get up and eat, it'll make it easier to focus instead of getting overwhelmed by all the sensual triggers."

Stiles stands carefully, a bit concerned by how strange he feels, but his balance is perfect, his hand holding the mug perfectly steady as he gets to his feet. He joins Peter in the kitchen and is practically drooling by the time he settles in at the table.

"Just so you know, I make the best breakfast ever. So you better be grateful," he teases, borderline serious and gets himself some coffee.

"You have no idea how grateful I am. I'm the only one who cooks at home, having someone else do it, and this good?" He's grinning as he serves himself.

"You're going to be a much better cook, now, too. Your sense of smell alone will make a ton of difference," Peter explains and bites into his own slice of toast.

Stiles laughs gently, "Maybe good enough to make my dad eat healthy food for once?"

"I can teach you a few things to help with that. Good ingredients are important."

"You'd... help me learn to take care of my dad, even in a roundabout way?" He's smiling at that, surprised and impressed.

"Of course I would. You're pack now." _Pack is family. More than that even._ He doesn't explain himself further though.

"I like that," is all he really says before he's far too busy stuffing his face. He's pretty sure he's never eaten this much in his life.

Peter watches with a subtle smirk and enjoys his own breakfast in silence. "You've got no school today but a lacrosse game I believe? You should sit it out."

"Why? Scott was incredible when he-... because Scott will be there and he'll know and we don't need to have a fight in front of everyone where we use really thinly veiled metaphors that are simultaneously confusing and disturbing."

"That and you can't control your wolf yet." Peter casually points at Stiles's fingernails.

Self-consciously, Stiles puts his hands on his lap, beneath the table. "Okay, yeah, I guess that's a pretty good point, too. Fuck, it's like being in middle school all over again."

"Only this time there are no random boners but your secret werewolf powers?"

"Precisely. And I'm not actually sure which is worse. Think I could get away with wearing oven mitts as a fashion choice?"

"If you add sunglasses and don't open your mouth?" Snorting, Peter deals with the dishes.

"I don't see a problem with any of that, seems perfectly normal to me." He deadpans, and then laughs and gets up to help with the dishes. "Scott's not gonna be able to like, hear it over the phone or something, is he?"

"No, he's not. Why? You wanna call him?"

"If I don't show up to the game without an explanation, he's gonna get weird, might go to my place, then make my dad wonder where the hell I was all night if I wasn't with Scott... I'll tell him I've got um... I dunno, flu or something."

Peter nods. "Whatever you feel like telling him. On that note though, did you guys have a fight last night?"

"Technically, no. He pulled some of the same shit that we always fight about but this time I just... let him. I stayed calm, I let him go off with his new girlfriend, and I left."

"So he doesn't suspect a thing?" Peter's inner sadist perks up.

“I mean, he probably suspects I'm passive-aggressively pissed off at him, but past that, definitely not."

Oh this is golden. "Do you know when you're going to confront him yet?"

"Not a clue. Is there..." Stiles swallows as he realized even his intuition is better honed - more subtle cues to draw information from now, he guesses. "It seems like there's something you've got in mind?"

"No, it's just something I really wanna watch. Well, and we both like a bit of a dramatic moment so I guess I was hoping you had an idea. We should probably work on your anchor first though. Do you feel angry?"

He shrugs. "No. Not at the moment. Should I try to?"

"No, you don't have to. It's just unusual. Most fresh werewolves are like hormonal teenagers, emotions all over the place and unable to control themselves. But you seem like you already have an anchor, it's slightly unnerving," Peter admits.

"Remember that time a spirit made of pure evil tortured me and used my body to murder people? The aftermath taught me a lot about emotional control, maybe it's that?"

"Touché." Sighing softly, the alpha in Peter wants to ask more questions about that but he knows they have to take one step at a time. "Well, you should be safe anyway as long as you're here. Do you need anything? Books for homework for example?"

"Umm..." That question seems to worry him a little. "How long do you think I'm gonna need to be here?"

"Until you're not a threat to society and your father anymore?"

"Okay, yeah, that's... fair. How long do you think _that_ will be?"

"If you stay like this a day, maybe two. But I honestly don't know." Anything could happen, really

"I'm gonna have to find a way to tell Dad, aren't I?" He sounds resigned.

"Yeah, he would probably appreciate the heads up. And so would I. You know, before he starts hunting me with a shotgun full of silver, wolfsbane and rocksalt?" Peter motions Stiles to follow him and leads him to the bathroom upstairs. "If you throw out your clothes, I'll put them into the washer and dryer. You can have more from me, we're roughly the same height anyway."

"My shirt is downstairs still," he says as he slips out of the cashmere he was lent, and toes off his socks. "I um... I can take care of my own laundry, you don't have to."

"Your shirt is already in there," Peter nods at his laundry bin. "You can smell it, if you focus on the difference to my scent. Plus, I know how to handle my machines a little bit better than you."

Something about this is making him very nervous, heartbeat and the flux of hormones like adrenaline and cortisol making that apparent. He just nods, though, and slips into the bathroom without another word. A moment later, out come his jeans and his boxers, the latter of which has a very distinct scent from his arousal the night before.

Peter chuckles softly but decides not to say anything. He already knows what happened the night before and there's no reason to make things more awkward right now. He can use Stiles's nervousness as ammunition later on.

Stiles can't stop fixating on it as he gets in the shower. His own nose can tell the difference between what he's got and what Peter's got, there's no fucking way the older, better, more practiced wolf won't be able to with it in his face like that. He's in there quite a while.

Only that Peter doesn't exactly focus nor care. While Stiles takes care of his body, his wolf lays out some clothes for him and then grabs some books from his personal library.

"I figured instead of going the rough, hands-on approach that my beloved nephew took, we might get into the topic of your metamorphosis on a more intellectual level," he tells Stiles when he comes back.

Stiles tries to straighten out his clothes again as he listens, the other man's clothing feeling like an odd fit. "Intellectual works for me, for now. I'm sure someday you'll have to get rough with me, though."

Smirking, Peter licks his lips. "Don't worry about that, darling. We'll get there." He opens the first book on the table and pushes it towards Stiles. "This is how you find an anchor."

He takes a seat and begins to page through it. It dawns on him quite belatedly what he'd said. "I, um, I didn't mean... like that..." He clears his throat, his heartbeat picking up with embarrassment.

Peter chuckles and steps behind him, running his thumb over the spot where he had bitten Stiles the night before. "Relax, Stiles, I might be the big bad wolf but I won't devour you any time soon. Not without you begging for it."

His heart speeds up again, this time with want. He laughs awkwardly, trying to pretend he's taking it as a joke.

"You already smell ripe for the taking but I would never do that without your explicit consent. So unless you wanna start begging right now, we should focus on the task at hand."

"Peter!" He finally protests. "That's, I'm not even," he whines, and adds, "This is your fault," and then goes back to trying to focus on the book.

Snickering, Peter leaves him be for now and just goes to make some coffee before sitting down with a book himself.

Stiles asks questions occasionally, showing that he's engaging with the material, but is able to mostly work through it on his own. Often, with an unconscious movement, he drags his hand over where he was bitten, and each time his heart pounds harder for just a second.

Peter grins ever so slightly every time he hears that and enjoys the scent of Stiles's arousal filling the air. He smells a little bit unusual but Peter isn't sure if that's part of the transition.

A few more hours wear on, Stiles having gone well beyond the section on anchors, but eventually he needs a break and pushes the book away. He's getting restless, fidgety, and it's anyone's guess if that's the wolf needing stimulation or his lack of Adderall. "I know my anchor," he says as he closes the cover.

Looking over, Peter raises his brow. "And?"

"My Dad. No question."

He nods. It makes sense. "I'm supposed to tell you that picking a person is dangerous blah blah." Peter rolls his eyes. "But if it works for you, go for it."

"I appreciate the support," and he means it sincerely. "I'm really bored of this stuff for the moment, though. Can we do something else?"

“Sure." Peter gets up and wolfs out slightly. "Hit me."

"... Are you... are you being serious right now?" He stares.

"What? That's what you came to me for, right? To become a fighter?"

"Well... yeah, but..." Stiles gets to his feet despite his uncertainty. "Just... like... hit you? I have no idea what I'm doing."

"That's okay, I will show you. But first, I wanna see how strong you actually are."

He takes a deep, long breath, nodding as he closes the distance between them. Without further hesitation he pulls back his arm and punches Peter right in the stomach, no holding back.

Chuckling, Peter takes the blow like it's nothing. "And now again as a wolf."

 _That_ makes Stiles hesitate. "I... Wolf... I don't know if I'm ready for that. What if... what if I lose control, or I can't come back, or I ruin the books, or..." he goes on, talking much too fast, each concern getting more meaningless.

"Stiles, I will not let you do that. I'm here, your alpha will protect you.”

He whimpers helplessly and looks at Peter with an expression to match. "Do I... do I have to?"

Nodding, Peter steps closer. "Yes, please. Trust me."

Stiles reaches out, placing a hand on Peter's chest. He feels his alpha's heartbeat as he takes a few more deep breaths, and then closes his eyes and starts to draw on what pushed him over the edge, his feelings about Scott and the way he'd been treated, made to feel weak. He takes a single step back as the raw power begins to course through him for the first time.

That's it. Peter's eyes light up with pride and this time, he takes a more defensive stance, smiling encouragingly. "Yeah, just like that. Come at me, baby."

His breathing becomes heavy, somehow taking on a vicious tone, and suddenly everything seems simple, instinctual, his mind no longer having any need to work in overdrive. Peter's encouragement makes him surrender himself to it, let the instinct take over, and his first growl is quickly followed by him moving in with lightning speed, taking a swipe with vicious claws towards Peter's face.

Peter ducks away from it quickly, beaming with pride. Instead of returning the attack, he just moves backwards, hoping it will trigger Stiles's need to hunt.

And it certainly does. Stiles continues forward, shoulders angled like he's stalking as he looks for another opening.

Smirking, Peter decides to take it up a notch and starts moving faster, challenging Stiles's wolf with a small, teasing howl.

He keeps up easily, Peter's speed matched without effort, and moves in for attack every opening he sees.

And really, if Peter hadn't known before Stiles would make an amazing wolf, he sees it now. He's dangerously smart, even if he lets the beast take over.

Still, Stiles doesn't have the practice, nor does he have Peter's physical strength. So roughly an hour later when Peter gets bored he flashes his eyes and attacks, slamming his beta to the floor.

Although Stiles fought it at first, the moment he's pinned beneath Peter's grip, he stills and surrenders, eyes meeting his alpha's.

“Good boy, I'm impressed you knew where your place is immediately," Peter purrs. And he definitely means it, Stiles seems to be a perfect beta already. Still, he can't stop himself from messing with the boy, scenting him down his slender, pale neck.

That action makes Stiles feel vulnerable in a really, really good way. He tilts his head to make more room and his wolf features swiftly dissipate entirely, his heart rate slowing back down to normal.

Slowly, Peter pulls away, offering his hand to help Stiles get up. "How do you feel? How did it feel?"

When he gets back to his feet, he stays very close to Peter, close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body. "Weird. Good. Really weird, like I was a different person."

"That's your wolf. You will learn to love him and get a feeling for him soon enough." Peter licks his lips. "Lemme try one last thing though." Letting his eyes burn bright red once more, he lets out his alpha voice. " **Kneel, pup.** "

His brows raise with helplessness as he feels something deep in the core of his being pull him down and force him to his knees.

Peter lets out a low, pleased rumble from his throat. " **Good boy.** " Grinning, he lets his alpha presence fade. "Sorry, I'm still a bit of a vain bastard and I really wanted to try that."

"It feels good," he admits quietly, confused about if that's coming from his wolf or... or _somewhere else_. He doesn't stand back up yet.

Surprised, Peter blinks. "It does? How does it feel exactly?"

He has to think about it, really probe the details of what he's feeling. "Right, is the best way I can think to put it. It feels like... not like I belong _here_ , exactly, but doing what you say is... it's like coming home to what I never knew was home." Stiles looks up at Peter, faintly worried, "Is that totally crazy?"

 _Fuck._ Peter shakes his head and he has to swallow twice to get rid of the tightness in his throat. "No, not at all." Absently, he runs his hand through Stiles's hair. "It's something I've always hoped to achieve as an alpha but I didn't expect to actually get it from someone. That kind of _submission_."

Stiles closes his eyes at the simple affection. "So, you think it's the wolf making me feel that way? Not... not something else about me?" It doesn't even strike him at this moment the level of admission he might be making there.

"It's a mixture of both," Peter explains quietly. He keeps petting Stiles, enjoying the feeling as well. "You have a talent, so to say. Or maybe you were born for this. Either way, Scott doesn't even know what he's lost."

"Scott never had this," he adds yet another admission. "When Scott told me what to do, I either listened out of active and deliberate trust or because it made sense, or I didn't listen at all and argued with him."

Peter tilts his head. "And with me you just... follow?"

Stiles nods. "I was really unsure about fighting, and about changing, but you reassured me so I just did it."

Yeah, that feels really fucking good. Peter grins. "Honestly, now I can't even wait for Scott to find out and see the bond we already share."

"Peter..." it's only half-protest, and his face gets a little warm. "We have to be careful about how that goes down, I don't want the fight to be any bigger than it needs to be." Because, yeah, a fight is definitely inevitable.

Peter pouts. "But I really wanna rub it in!"

"That's not wise and I think we both know it." But he's still smiling at the idea, although it has this quality like he knows it shouldn't make him smile.

"Pff, you're no fun." But Peter grins and pulls Stiles to his feet. "Now come on, I'm going to show you how to cook in a way that makes your father eat healthy."


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles has been increasingly close all day, to the point of accidentally becoming a bit of a nuisance in the kitchen earlier. At the times when Peter leaves him alone, to go to the bathroom or whatever else, Stiles always finds himself suddenly disorganized, scattered, thoughts constantly interrupted to wonder when Peter will be coming back. He's like a puppy constantly circling his master's feet. When dinner time comes, he takes the seat right beside Peter, and when they retire to the living room after, he plants himself right beside Peter on the couch, hip to hip, despite there being plenty of other seating options.

It's not that Peter minds his clingy new beta, it's just rather unexpected and Stiles's smell doesn't help with his confusion. Peter tilts his head and looks at the boy, a grin dancing on his lips. "You can sit in my lap, if you want, you know?"

"Wh..." He looks up at Peter as if he doesn't understand. "I... Why would I want to..."

"So you don't?" He keeps his subtle grin.

"Well... I mean... I guess... Now that you say it?" He looks shy and a little helpless.

Peter pats his legs. "Come here, pup. Enough of the awkward positioning yourself next to me, just get comfortable and lean against my chest."

"Pup?" He gives a subdued grin and climbs into Peter's lap, sitting sideways. He leans against him and breathes deep, listening intently to his heartbeat for a while. After a bit, he speaks up. "So... should I tell the whole pack at once, or maybe try just one or two at a time?"

"It's not particularly fair to speak with certain people first but it might be the easier and safer option. Who do you wanna start with?" Peter runs his fingers through Stiles's hair again, something that he finds oddly calming and nice.

"Scott," he says decisively. "Maybe with Derek or Lydia. Someone to talk him down."

"I think Lydia would be best. When it comes to my nephew..." Peter shrugs. His relationship with Derek is difficult. "I'm pretty sure they're all going to think I hexed you or something like that."

"... Really?" The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "That's... fucking stupid, but you're probably right. Do you wanna come with me? I can do it on my own, might keep you safer."

He merely chuckles. "Please, do you really think I'm scared of them? I'm not just any wolf, Stiles, I'm a born wolf that has a connection to magic. Even though I'm definitely weaker than Scott I'm capable of taking care of myself. And you, for that matter."

"But... what if sometimes I wanna take care of you?" He smiles, and starts kissing softy over Peter's neck.

Stunned, Peter freezes, completely surprised at what Stiles is doing. "Take care... how?"

"Be strong, protect you, research for you, anything you want." But now he's starting to add tongue.

Yeah, this time Peter's arousal is definitely in the air, too. But he doesn't move, he just waits. "I appreciate that but _anything_ is a big word."

"I'll probably have to work up to some of it," he admits, teeth grazing gently, almost playfully over Peter's neck as he kisses. "But I know I _want_ to be able to do anything, at least. And God, I think you're right about our wolves liking each other." Stiles's self-awareness of what he's doing comes immediately before his canid teeth coming out by their own volition.

Peter lets out a sharp growl at Stiles using his teeth though. As needy and cute as the boy is acting, there's still a part of the alpha that remembers just how many times that young man set him on fire. "Control yourself, pup!"

Stiles ducks back with a little whimper and looks somewhere between embarrassed and ashamed.

"I'm not a chew toy, I'm your alpha. If you wanna use your wolf teeth with me, learn how to control your transformation first or ask me for help," Peter scolds, unwilling to admit how much Stiles's behaviour and scent are unsettling him.

"I wasn't... I didn't mean... I'm sorry. I... I don't know what's getting into me, I don't know what I'm doing or why I want it so much." He starts to pull off of Peter's lap.

But Peter holds him down, gently but firmly. "No, you're not running now, Stiles. You're changing and as much as I appreciate it when someone knows when to walk away, you gotta learn how to confront your wolf. Think about what you feel and why it makes you act like this."

Confronting the monsters inside of him has never been comfortable, but he heeds Peter's words. He watches his alpha as he thinks, as if searching for answers on his face. "I feel bold enough to get what I want now. I got the bite, what could be harder to pursue than that? And... and maybe if it were just how I felt before, just the fantasies and dreams I used to have, it wouldn't be this... this... irresistible, but now this new part of me wants it, too, and this new part of me is very, very strong right now."

"And what is it what you want exactly?" Peter asks, calming down. "It's not like you've been in love with me."

"In love? No, but..." He trails off, unsure of how to say this, not that he even knows what to say. "I don't know. Maybe part of me is now. I don't... It's just..." A frustrated sigh, aimed entirely at himself, and he blinks a few frustrated tears away. "My wolf just keeps saying 'mate' and I don't even know what that means, but when I follow it I think it's trying to show me."

Once more, Peter is left completely stunned. "Okay..." Gently, he sets Stiles onto the couch and gets up, grabbing another old, huge book. "Read this. Page seven-hundred to page content eight-hundred-three. Werewolf mates. And once you're done you really gotta ask yourself if that's what your wolf is saying." Because fuck, _mates_?

"A hundred pages?" He furrows his brow and whines. "Okay, but... I need... Will you go to my car for me and grab the little black kit in my glove box? I really need my meds, especially if I'm ever gonna make it through this much reading." As he speaks he flips the book open to the right page, already looking a little overwhelmed by how much it is.

"Stiles, you don't have ADHD anymore," Peter says softly. But he still goes and grabs Stiles's keys to get the medication.

He certainly looks as if he's been caught or found out, but he doesn't actually say anything, just focuses on the book.

Respecting Stiles's need for privacy, Peter just brings him the case and then busies himself in the kitchen, waiting for his beta to figure out his own feelings.

When the little black kit, resembling one much like most diabetics have, is set down, he thanks Peter for it. He pushes himself through a few more pages, then sets it aside and takes his medication with him into the bathroom.

Once more, Peter wonders what's going on and if that medication has anything to do with how different Stiles's smells whenever he's aroused. But he leaves him be and just trusts the boy to tell him someday.

When he comes back, he actually is a lot more focused on the book, working through it at his usual lightning speed, although rereading some parts to really make sure he gets it. A little over an hour later, he sets it down and reflects.

Peter silently hands him a cup of hot coffee, exactly how Stiles likes it. "And? Any revelations?"

He takes the cup and looks up at Peter. "I'm... a little too young to be thinking about spending the rest of my life with someone, aren't I?" The disharmony that's causing between him and his wolf is painfully evident, though, in the way the wolf is trying to force its way out, a small growl escaping Stiles's throat, his nails changing to claws.

Nodding, Peter's gaze softens. "Yeah. That's what I figured." He sits down and closes the book.

He actively asserts control over the beast, his previous battles with his feelings and his demons giving him a leg up in anchoring himself. His claws retract. "I mean," he re-positions himself to face Peter and sighs. "I already did that, though, didn't I? You're my alpha, and... I guess wolves do change packs, don't they?" He gives a thoughtful little noise. "But, I don't. I mean, when I decided I wanted it from you, it was like... That was it, I made my choice. I'm your beta, always. I've already made a pact to spend the rest of my life with someone, in some capacity. Or, at least, that's how it feels to me, even if I know betas who are less loyal."

"Wolves change packs but it's incredibly rare." Peter falls silent for a moment but he decides not to say anything that would confuse Stiles more. "But you basically already did it once. Don't let the choices you make now dictate the rest of your life. Mating is..." He sighs. "Mating isn't a real choice. If you find your mate you feel like you can't live without them anymore."

"Oh shut up," he says aloud, to himself - his chest, it would seem, and then blushes faintly and clears his throat when he realizes that wasn't just in his head. "So, you're saying that ready or not, it'll happen when it happens?"

Peter chuckles at Stiles talking to his wolf. It's cute. But the topic is much more serious than he would like it to be. 

"Yeah, that's how it works," he says. "It's a little bit like instinct. Born wolves know it the second they smell someone for the very first time."

"Do mates always, like, match up? Like, is it ever unrequited?"

"Yeah, I think a fifth of all cases ends up being like that. Especially when your mate is a human, for example." Peter shrugs but his face is visibly closing off. "It's not like you can't live like that, especially if your mate is a pack member you'll still be connected and happy. It just isn't perfect."

Stiles pulls his knees up to his chest and nods. "That's... that's a lot. But, I guess, human pairing probably has an even worse track record, God knows I..." he pauses, turns his gaze to Peter like something major just struck him. "Does this mean... does this mean I get to stop being really fucking confused about how I feel about Lydia? Will my wolf figure it out?"

"Your wolf is you, Stiles. Just another version but not another identity," Peter explains with a crooked smile. "It's basically just going to enable you to perceive things more clearly."

"But will it help me perceive _that_ more clearly?" He looks so hopeful.

"I don't know," Peter answers honestly. "I really don't have a clue, I'm sorry."

Stiles pouts for half a second then shrugs. "Guess I'll figure it out when I tell her, probably." And then he's quiet for a moment longer, and that heavy, wanting feeling in his chest comes storming back in. "Do you, um... do you know any not-born wolves who've found theirs?"

"Yeah, I do." Again that crooked smile and Peter gets up, ruffling through Stiles's hair. "Don't worry too much about it, pup, you will find love easily."

"Well, could I, like, talk to them maybe, it could help me figure it out?" He says, holding back a whine, his eyes following his alpha. But then, another thought pops into his head, and he blurts it out without letting Peter even respond to the previous question, because it comes with a sinking feeling. "Is... I'm not... I'm not Derek's, am I? Oh God, am I? Is that why you said that? Did he tell you?"

Peter can't help it, he snorts. "No, you're definitely not Derek's mate. My nephew is... difficult when it comes to relationships and he likes you a lot while at the same time being absolutely incompetent when it comes to communicating those feelings. But it's nothing life threateningly serious. Why?"

"Well... because... I felt weird about it, ever since that night. I thought maybe you were just fucking with me when you said Derek's in love with me but," a shrug, "you're really good at being ambiguous about when you're fucking with someone's head and when you're being genuine."

He smirks, aquamarine eyes sparkling. "I take that as a compliment."

Laughing, Stiles nods, "Well, good, it is. I mean, sometimes a _complaint_ , but also definitely a compliment."

"I'd say you're pack now so it won't happen anymore but that would be a lie." Peter grins, glad they moved away from the whole mating thing.

"Well, it just wouldn't be Peter Hale if he wasn't kind of a bastard." His smile is broad, and he stands and stretches out. "So, I'm thinking I should go home either tonight or tomorrow morning, let Dad see my face so he knows I'm not dead, and um... maybe talk to Scott and a few others, and then come back over tomorrow night? It's the first night of the full moon, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you being alone with humans yet, Stiles. You're still... new to all this."

"Even my dad?" He furrows his brow, taking the concern to heart.

"Did Scott absolutely treat you right when he was transforming and dealing with all of this?" Peter asks in return.

"... No. But Scott's kind of an idiot so..." _Sigh_ "Okay, so should you come with me? I doubt it's gonna be any safer the day after the first night, and if I go too many days without checking in at home, it won't end well."

"I can just wait outside and if you need me, I'll be there," he suggests.

"That sounds good. It'll... it'll be nice knowing you're so close," he smiles shyly. "I wonder why Scott wasn't like this."

Peter tilts his head and arches an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I mean, maybe it's just 'cause you weren't around, but... clingy? Affectionate? Needing approval?"

God, Stiles is really making this hard. "He wasn't the perfect beta," Peter mutters out.

"Mmn, well, that's definitely true. And I guess if he was always meant to be an alpha, it makes sense he never had these kinds of, um, follower feelings?" _Because the way I feel is normal_ he insists to himself, despite probably knowing better. "So, we going tonight or in the morning?"

"Dinner and a good night's rest first. You're going to take good care of your body from now on," Peter decides.


	5. Chapter 5

It's around 10 when Stiles and Peter leave his place. They head over to the Stilinski place, and as assured, Peter waits in the Jeep. Stiles is scolded a bit by his father for being so out of touch the last two days, but the boy is eighteen and Noah tries to give him his freedom without too much question. Stiles manages to play it cool, have a perfectly normal interaction, and then heads up to his room to pack a bag - clothes, school books, his laptop, a small afghan he got from a grandmother he was too young to remember. He also texts Scott, Derek, and Lydia all separately to set up a meeting time and place which are, of course, all identical. About an hour after he went in, he comes back out, and gets in the driver's seat after tossing his bag in the back.

The next stop is the school. It's empty on Sundays, and the expansive field will make it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop. Stiles and Peter arrive first, Derek is next, and even from several yards away, Stiles can see how skeptical of this whole situation the other wolf looks. When he gets close enough, Derek's nostrils flare, and a small growl gathers in the back of his throat.

"What the hell did you do?" He's addressing Peter.

In return, Peter just grins and shrugs. "What do you think I did?"

"Why the hell does he smell like a wolf?" He growls. And he knows exactly what his uncle did to the boy, but he's unwilling to actually think it.

Stiles watches Derek, and then Peter, and decides he shouldn't answer questions that are addressed to his alpha.

"Because he _is_ a wolf, my dear nephew," Peter replies calmly. "What, are you worried you might not be my favourite pup anymore?"

Derek just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, ha ha," his tone is flat. "If you're going to tell a lie that obvious, why even bother telling it?"

Peter just keeps grinning. "Show him," he orders Stiles. "This is your show after all."

"I kinda wanted to wait 'til..." And at that moment, Lydia is next, and joins the group. "Um... Hey." She says with a smile, but then looks at Stiles, eyebrow raised, tone a little terse, "I thought it was going to be just us?"

Snickering, Peter takes a step back. "Oh this is going to be golden."

"Peter..." It's an embarrassed kind of protest, and then he addresses Lydia. "This is actually something I think the whole pack - or, well, I mean, the core of your pack should hear all at once, so, um, we're actually still waiting on Scott."

"The core of our pack?" Lydia looks skeptical. "So why is he here?" And Derek nods in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest.

Before Peter can answer, Scott comes running. "Sorry, had to help Deaton with some stuff. What's up?" He looks around, slightly confused. "Why is everyone so tense?"

"Stiles says he and Peter have something to tell us," chimes in Lydia.

"Yeah, that they're fucking now," growls Derek.

"They're what!?" Lydia's jaw drops.

"No, we're not! Why would you even say that!?" Stiles's eyes are wide, and he can't believe how out of hand this is getting but really, he should've seen it coming.

 

Peter helps out. "Because you smell like wolf. Big time." Jesus, he shouldn't be so smug about this, really.

Scott sniffs and his eyes widen slightly before he frowns. "You really do... Stiles, what's going on? What did Peter do?"

"Why do you and Derek assume this is something Peter did, like it couldn't be something I did?" He huffs, then takes a deep breath to ground himself because he can feel months of resentment bubbling up again, threatening to turn him. He takes a step back just as Peter did, drawing himself close enough to touch his alpha should he need to. "I smell like a wolf..." Another deep exhale. This is harder than he thought, and he subtly reaches to get a finger in Peter's shirt or hand or whatever he can. "That smell is me, not Peter. I decided to become a werewolf."

Derek and Lydia are both stunned into silence, although Derek's is fairly angry, where as Lydia is confused and concerned.

Scott, on the other hand, starts talking immediately. "You did what? How?!"

Peter reaches out and takes Stiles's hand gently, squeezing with reassurance.

He looks up to Peter, his face somehow making the burning, sinking, oppressive weight in his chest bearable. "On Friday, I asked Peter to give me the bite. We talked about it for a while, and he decided to accept me as his beta, so he gave it to me."

Smiling - okay no, really, he's grinning - Peter nods and then shrugs. "What can I say, I'm a giver."

"That's bullshit," Derek jumps in. He can't feel the lie, but he knows it must be. "You're not an alpha, your bite wouldn't do anything but scar. Who the hell are you covering for?"

Scott jumps in as well. "And Stiles never wanted to be a wolf. What is going on here?"

"Never wanted-," another huff and he squeezes Peter's hand because he's getting dangerously close to losing his cool here. "I realized I would be a greater asset to myself, my family, and this town if I could do more than detective work. I asked Peter to help me, and he did. It's exactly that simple." Okay, maybe not _that_ simple, but good enough for now. Looking up to Peter again, he asks, "Do you want to prove it, or is it not worth it?"

"It's your decision, pup, your friends. You can do whatever you want to do." Peter's eyes flicker over to Lydia who's the only one not judging so far. "Maybe they deserve a shot at understanding."

Lydia is certainly calculating, absorbing, formulating, but no, she's not yet judging.

Stiles draws himself closer to Peter. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to go there right now. I'm not sure I can keep a leash on it. But if you wanted to prove that you could...?"

Scott lets out a soft growl. "Excuse me? We're still here!"

And even without letting it out, the leash is fraying already. Stiles growls right back, perhaps a bit more viciously. "Sorry, was someone not giving you attention for two seconds?"

Which, naturally, the aggression showed towards his alpha makes Derek step forward, readying himself, because this is certainly one of Peter's plans to disrupt his pack.

Peter puts an end onto it with one phrase though, placing his hand on the back of Stiles's neck. " _Down boy_."

With a huff, Stiles stills himself, forces his shoulders to relax and his lungs to breathe normally.

"Thank you." He smiles and gently runs his thumb over Stiles's spine, subtly stroking or rather petting.

Scott looks downright disgusted at that though. "Peter, what did you do? You're obviously doing some freaky mind control shit here."

"Look, I... I would be thinking the same thing on your side of the fence, too, okay, we all know I've never been Peter's top advocate, but... I _needed_ it, Scott, okay? Being left on the sidelines, not listened to, the pack's pet human? I couldn't do it anymore. And Peter... I mean, come on, we've all known for a long time, right? I'm not the only one to know how much he wanted _me_ as his beta from the very beginning? He gets it, he knows what an asset I am, and with him I can actually make a difference. We're a good team. It just makes sense."

"I know you're an asset, too, man. Come on..." Scott tries to deflect. "This doesn't make any sense, why didn't you talk to me? I could have just... I don't know. I'm a true alpha. I don't know what Peter did but I cannot have been good."

"I... I know you know I'm an asset. But," he glances at Derek and Lydia, then back to Scott, "I was your _best_ asset, and no matter how many times I proved it, or came through for you in the end, no matter how many of you I saved how many times even though I was 'just a human', you never got it."

Lydia's felt the same on several occasions, and she can't help but nod in agreement. "I mean, it makes sense, Scott, that you put your wolves ahead of the rest of us, I don't blame you for it - but you definitely do it."

"And not just the wolves, the girlfriends, too."

"Oh God, don't even get me started. I thought for a while Malia, the girl who's maturity hit an abrupt wall at age seven and had no idea how to control her transformations, was gonna be top dog, just because Scott started sniffing around."

"Right?! Thank you! She gets it!"

Scott blushes fiercely and looks at Derek for help. "I'm not perfect, okay, I know that. But you guys aren't being fair." His insecurity turns into helpless anger and he glares at Peter. "You could have talked to me instead of running to a sociopath. He's a monster and he should be locked up."

"Scott's our alpha and he's always-" but Derek gets interrupted by a growling Stiles who is stepping forward, wolf finally revealing itself.

" _You_ don't get to talk about him that way," he says to Scott, voice dangerous.

Peter opens his mouth to intervene but then he decides no, this is way too much fun.

Scott's mouth is open as well and he stares at Stiles in slight disbelief, seeing the change in his friend is finally driving home what they've all been talking about. "What the hell? You know I'm right, Stiles. He's killed people!"

"So has Derek, so did Ethan and Alex," and then, with another growl, "So have _I_. And it doesn't matter, you still don't get to talk about him that way. The next time you say something like that about my alpha, I'm gonna do a whole lot more than bark," he threatens.

He could honestly kiss the boy right now and Peter purrs, grinning openly and very pleased at Stiles's loyalty.

"I used to be your alpha," Scott snaps. "I used to be your best friend, your brother. This isn't you, Stiles and I'm going to fix whatever Peter did."

The wolf melts away, his heart breaking just a little bit. "I still am. I'm still your best friend and your brother so long as you can take me like this - as Peter's beta. We didn't work as packmates, but that doesn't make us nothing to each other. Please, Scott."

"This is _Peter_ we're talking about. Of all people you could have run to, you chose _him_ and you have the nerve to say you're still my best friend?!" Yeah, the young alpha is definitely getting more and more angry, wolfing out and growling, red eyes flashing dangerously.

Peter knows that there's no way he can win a fight against a true alpha right now. He might have magic up his sleeve but he's not ready for that confrontation yet. Still, he waits, letting Stiles decide.

He looks back to Peter, telling him without words, 'I can handle this," and then back to Scott. He knows how to disarm Scott by running his mouth. "I went to the only person in this whole damn town that doesn't underestimate me. And yeah, fine, maybe we aren't best friends anymore - but that's on _you_ , not me. You think I went to him on a whim? You think there's a _damn_ thing in my life I have _ever_ done without thinking it through a dozen times if I've got the chance? You pushed this, Scott. You pushed me, you pushed me out of your pack, you made me feel like an omega even though I was surrounded by something that's supposed to mean more than family, and _you_ broke that bond. Now you've got two fucking choices right now - you can walk away and try to reason out how you're still the good guy here, or you can go all Big Bad Alpha on me and ignite a pack war - one you will _not_ leave with as many betas as you entered with." He lets the wolf out again, showing he's not bluffing. "So what's it gonna be?"

Scott growls again, louder, somehow trying to scare Stiles into submission but he also knows that's not going to work. So he pulls back and waves at Derek and Lydia to follow him. "We're not done, Peter. I'm going to find out what you did and I'm going to fix him."

Peter just smiles and shakes his head, pulling Stiles against him. "And that's why you're going to fail, golden boy. He's not mine because I made him, he's mine because he chose me."

Derek looks at Peter like his lust to murder his uncle has been born anew, and then follows on Scott's heels.

Lydia shoots an apologetic look to Stiles and Peter, and somehow manages to seem amused at all of this. "We'll work it out. Don't be a stranger." She follows Scott's lead out of the field. 

And, okay, it's petty as fuck, entirely unnecessary, less than a half-truth, and done only to rub it in, but right now that's more than enough. With a voice a little louder than is at all necessary, Stiles asks, "Take me home, Alpha, please? You kept me up so late last night, I want to nap with you before the moon tonight."

Peter gives Stiles a look, arching an eyebrow and he licks his lips. "Of course, pup. Let's curl up together on the couch, _baby_." He waits until the others are definitely unable to hear them and then he pulls away slightly though. "Wanna talk about it or nah?"

"Fuck Scott, fuck his pack, fuck him for trying to make this my fault, and fuck me for almost believing it," he responds as he takes Peter by the hand and starts back towards the Jeep so they can get out of there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags added: Werewolf biology, trans stiles (but it's not a big deal), masochism, biting.

Stiles shuts the apartment door behind them and simply leans against it and sighs as he rubs his face. "You wanna show me that absinthe and wolfsbane trick now?" he jokes dryly.

Peter chuckles. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your sense of humor? Because I really do." He hangs up his leather jacket and shakes his head though. "How about a cup of tea instead? I'm also pretty sure I have some good ice cream in the freezer."

"Yes to the tea, no to the ice cream." Stiles shrugs out of his flannel overshirt and slips it onto the back of the couch, folded, before flopping down. He doesn't follow Peter to the kitchen.

Okay, so no comfort sweets. Peter just gets the tea ready and then returns once everything is done, setting a tray with cups, sugar, milk, lemon slices, the tea and some scones onto the coffee table. "Help yourself, please."

"It's easier than I thought it would be," he admits after a moment. "The separation. Like, internally, even. That pack doesn't feel like mine, no part of me feels like I belong there. I thought I might have lingering feelings or something but... no."

"I'm glad to hear that," Peter says softly. "It reassures me in my position as your alpha. But..." He fixes himself his tea. "...that doesn't mean you have to suppress any of it for my sake. Just in case those feelings return once Scott isn't such an idiot anymore."

Stiles leans forward and fixes his own. "When Scott stops being an idiot, I'll want to be his brother again. But, what did that book say? 'Pack is more than family'? I've chosen my pack - like, actually chosen, not been pushed into by circumstance, and it's you. It's us. That won't change."

Peter nods and a big part of him really wants to believe that. But there's also a strong sense of doubt lingering. "Well, it's not like I would let you out easy," he half-teases.

He grins. "Is it totally inappropriate for me to say that's kinda sexy?"

"Sexy?" Peter snorts. "Are you sure?"

"Very," he says with a little shrug. "The alpha thing is a turn on in regards to you. Kinda always has been."

They're getting into dangerous territory again but this time, Peter prefers this kind of conversation over the alternative. "Okay, now you have to elaborate. Only in regards to me? So it didn't make Derek sexy? And what do you mean by 'kinda always'?"

"Nope, not Derek, super not Scott, none of the alpha pack." He leans back, tea in hand, and somehow feels like having secrets at this point is just a pointless annoyance, so he answers Peter's questions openly. "I mean that night you offered the bite to me? I'm still getting mileage out of that."

"Mileage? Are you for real?" Peter is borderline impressed and amused at the same time. "You've jerked off thinking about me? I mean, not that I don't get that, I just hadn't expected it to be a thing for _you_ , too."

Putting it so plainly makes him blush and he tries so hard to play it cool with a nonchalant shrug, but then... "Wait, for me, _too_? Who else do you know of that thinks about you when they're... doing that."

"Me. I meant that I thought about you while jerking of quite a bit," Peter admits with a shameless grin.

It's lucky his cup is already resting on his lap, otherwise he'd've dropped it all over the floor. His face goes red, his heart pounds so hard he's not sure his rib cage can hold it, and all the noise he can make is a stunned little whine.

Which is a very arousing sound for Peter who gets off on his partners being overwhelmed by him. "I figured you kinda knew with the way you eye-fucked me and I returned it once in a while."

"... I... um... I thought... that wasn't just in my head?" He looks so helpless.

"No Stiles, it wasn't." Peter licks his lips. "Wanna tell me what you thought about exactly?"

"... I... thought about... a lot of different variations on what we did Friday night," he admits, still walking on eggshells.

“Grinding against each other?"

He knows Peter is messing with him and it makes him huff. "Why... why do you think I reacted to the bite like that? I can't even remember how many times the thought of your teeth sinking in is exactly when I got off, nor can I count the number of times I then got off _again_ thinking about fucking right after." _And oh my God why am I saying all of this out loud?!_

Peter's heartbeat becomes louder and stronger, his eyes are fixed on Stiles, waiting to notice the lie. But it's not happening and Peter growls, a deep frustration rising from his chest. "You wanted this all along, huh? Part of me knew, that's why I offered again but..." He gets up and his alpha voice is suddenly vibrating through the room. "I should have just pushed harder, should have gotten you sooner instead of letting you set me on fire. Again."

That voice turns him on as much as it scares him. "I wouldn't have done it before. I wasn't ready to leave Scott," he says honestly. "I... I had to figure it out on my own, how much I need you. How much we fit together."

" **You had to try and kill me first**." Peter is still feeling a little salty about that.

Stiles ducks his head. "No... That was... That was excessive."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Peter tries to explain himself. "You gotta look at it with my eyes, pup. I've wanted you. I've always wanted you. I offered, you declined. I helped whenever your pack needed me, I never harmed **you** personally in any way. I always respected you. You set me on fire. Twice. You helped Derek kill me once, you tried killing me yourself a second time. For the alpha you left. And now you're telling me you... you keep talking about wanting me and needing me, about mates and sex and I just..." He shakes his head again.

"I... I can see how I'm really frustrating, and confusing, and maybe you don't know what part of me to trust. Sometimes I feel that way about myself, too. All I can say is that I've been sure of all the choices I've made, when I made them, and I think... I think a lot of what happened, but not all of it, needed to to get me here, to where I'm supposed to be."

“Okay." Peter nods. "Just please don't tempt me, okay? Not unless you're really fucking sure."

"... Really fucking sure of what? The sex part, or the mate part?" Although if he let this new part of himself decide, there wouldn't be a difference.

Stiles has no idea how hard it is for Peter to answer like he does but he's not lying. "The sex part, obviously. I highly doubt I'm your mate."

"I'm fucking sure," he says with no hesitation. "You have no idea how many fantasies..."

"I'm not a fetish or a fantasy," Peter growls. "I'm a werewolf and I'm not exactly a good man."

"Of all people, you think _I_ haven't noticed who you are?" He sounds irritated. "The things I think, late at night when my room is dark and quiet, and my head won't shut the hell up, they're about _you_. They're about you and sometimes they're the only thing that can make me sleep."

Peter arches an eyebrow. "They make you sleep? I'd expect them to give you nightmares."

"Then you really must not know what I think about. It's not all scary monster, and it's not all just the bite. It rarely has much to do with you being a wolf at all, actually, but I never forget that you are. It's usually in my bedroom, but not always. Sometimes you're cruel and brutal and, yeah, okay, sometimes your claws and teeth come out because you know how much I love it -- I like the pain, and the way the surrender makes me give up my issues with everything else. But sometimes you take your time because you want to make me feel good for as long as possible, and I get off on how mutual it is, making each other lose ourselves in the feeling and the scent and... " He swallows thickly, brain finally catching up to everything that's pouring out of his mouth, and he just stops.

Peter is stunned absolutely speechless and that really doesn't happen often but somehow Stiles manages to do that all the time. The alpha steps around the chair Stiles is sitting on and swallows thickly, getting rid of all hesitation at once. "You love the pain?" he asks with a low, rough but impossibly sweet tone. His claws come out and he uses them to stroke over his beta's throat, just teasing with how sharp they are.

"Oh God," it's a small, wanting noise and he can already feel the swell in his jeans. "I... I think I do. Never had it for real from someone else before, just what I can do to myself." And finally he has enough tact to not just spill everything, especially the part where he tested his own claws on himself last night when Peter left him on the couch to sleep, surrounded by his alpha's scent.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you right now exactly and I might just be generous and fulfil your fantasy," Peter suggest with a hot whisper to Stiles's ear.

"I..." Being put on the spot like this when he's so distracted is so not fair. "My neck -- lips, tongue, teeth, claws. I want you to make me bleed a little. I want you to let your hands go where ever you want, and I wanna smell like you by the time you're done with me."

Peter purrs, closing his hand fully around Stiles's throat. "Once I've filled your perky little ass with my cum for the first time, you'll get addicted, pup. You'll smell like me forever."

His jaw drops at that, those actual words from the actual Peter Hale. " _Jesus, Peter_ ," he sounds nothing but pleased -- well, maybe a little scared. "Are... you want to... t-today?"

"Now, for all I care." He licks his lips and chokes Stiles ever so slightly. "You think you're ready? I'm big, baby. And I'll fuck you hard."

 _Oh God. Oh God, oh fuck, fuck, fuck._ Now the nervousness comes flooding in, anxiety twisting up inside of him but he wants what Peter's offering so badly. "I don't know if I can. I... I don't know if I'm ready for that. Can we just, can we work up to it? Please?"

Immediately, Peter lets go and nods, his voice softer. "Of course. Nothing you don't want." He grins and winks. "How about I show you why I'm the best kisser of Beacon Hills as a start?"

He relaxes immediately and smiles again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that."

"So come with me." Peter pulls Stiles out of his chair and guides him into the living room where he sits down on the couch and has Stiles straddle his lap. "Now, who have you kissed so far?"

It feels so natural to be on Peter like this, his close presence feels comforting even when he's already relaxed. "Um... Well, there was a girl at a club one time. Lydia." Christ, the list is embarrassingly short. "There was a guy in middle school. And, um," it feels so weird to think about, weirder to admit, but he knows he has to. "Malia, a few times."

"Well, I hope my daughter was the best of them all so far." He grins and cups Stiles's cheek. "Kiss me. Show me how you like to be kissed and I'll do my best to deliver."

Smiling shyly, Stiles leans in to do as he's told. It starts sweet, teasing, lips meeting, tongue taking its time to lap over Peter's lips and slip into his mouth. Soon the intensity builds and he's pouring himself into it, all passion and greed, pushing down against his alpha and taking fistfuls of his shirt tightly in hand.

Peter groans in response but once Stiles becomes more aggressive, so does he. He takes over and growls into the kiss, taking the boy's mouth with his tongue and even lets him feel his fangs a little.

Stiles hasn't kissed nearly enough people -- especially people with experience -- to know if Peter is really the best in Beacon Hills, but he's pretty damn sure that he is. He opens his hands and pushes them up beneath Peter's shirt, stroking over the muscular flesh and brushing his thumbs over the other man's nipples. The longer they kiss, the more vocal Stiles becomes, panting softly and giving quiet, needy moans.

Peter ends up tongue-fucking Stiles's mouth before he finally pulls back, panting, cock and nipples hard because of how vocal Stiles is. "I wanna leave a mark. It won't last long but because I'm an alpha it'll be long enough."

" _Please_. Mark me. Anywhere you want, however you want. I want my body to be yours."

"Fuck, boy!" Peter's eyes flash with red alpha fire and he bites Stiles's neck with his wolf teeth. Not deep, not hard, just so it bleeds and stays there for a while.

But he begs for more, gripping Peter's shoulders impossibly tight. "Deeper, please, please, give me all of it, just like you did before." He's going to want to recreate that night so many times...

"Oh, you really are a little _painslut_ , huh?" Peter licks away some blood. "I'm not going to go deeper. But I will cover you in my bite marks." He repeats it on the other side.

Stiles cries out, hips bucking instinctively once. " _Yes_ , yes yes, Peter, Peter please, I love it. Oh God, I love it as much as I knew I would."

Peter curses again, his cock throbbing hard inside his jeans. "Wait until I force my knot inside of you some day," he growls heatedly and then bites one more time, this time choosing Stiles's right collar bone, directly through his shirt.

He nearly screams this time, the pain getting worse with each bite, but then the surprise of what Peter just said hits him, a little delayed. "Knot?! Fuck, Peter, that's, mnn," he whines struggling for words. "That's a real thing?!"

"Of course it is. Don't tell me you had all those filthy fantasies but never considered that." He smirks and laps over Stiles's open wounds, the iron flavor bursting on his tongue only making him more animalistic.

"I never thought it was real," he whispers, endorphins flooding his system now, making his head fuzzy despite his werewolf's ability to heal. "I want you. I want you, please, I'm ready, I need it," his voice is still quiet but he forces his eyes to focus.

"Then you'll get me." Peter kisses Stiles again and then pulls his shirt off. Another kiss and he's working his own shirt off. A bite to Stiles's other collarbone while Peter works open the fly of his beta's pants. Hell yeah, he wants to fuck the boy stupid.

He'd almost forgotten the complication, so wrapped up in how right this feels, how much he _knows_ they fit together, but when he hears his zipper, his hips still and he suddenly grabs Peter's hand. Anxiety spikes through him, makes his chest tight, makes him feel like his whole world is about to come crashing down. "Wait! I... we have to talk about something first."

Peter lets out a displeased growl but he lets go and looks at Stiles. "About what? I thought you knew what you wanted."

Despite how quick his breath is, he pulls his hands off. "I'm sorry, I am sure, please don't stop." Because apparently it's so much easier to just let Peter find out than to say anything.

Seriously? Peter scoffs but he doesn't say anything, he just looks at Stiles for a moment, trying to judge what's so unsettling for the boy. "You know you don't have to do this, right? We can just keep kissing."

"I want it. I swear to you, Peter, I want this even more than I wanted your bite," and that should be pretty fucking meaningful. "Touch me, please."

“Okay." Slowly, and much less heated than before, Peter opens Stiles's jeans and reaches inside. He's noticed the unusual scent already and he's a little bit irritated by Stiles not being hard until his fingertips reach the boy's wetness. "Ah." A smile of realization spreads over Peter's face. "That explains why I couldn't place your scent of arousal."

" _Fuck_ ," Stiles gasps, shocked at how fucking good it feels to have someone else touch his cock. When Peter's hand slips even lower, he pulses with fear again until his alpha's words, which brings him to a level of cautiously soothed. "I'm sorry." He doesn't even know why he's apologizing, but that's the only thing that comes out.

Peter looks confused. "About what? It was my mistake, me being too narrow minded to figure this out." He moves his hand up again and teases Stiles's cock with a grin. "Doesn't mean I wanna fuck you less, doesn't mean I'm not going to eat your ass and blow you when you've been a good boy."

He can't help it, his hips push and rock against Peter's hand, his libido kicking into overdrive. "Oh God, oh fuck, Peter, never stop touching me, nothing has ever been this good."

"If this is already amazing, I will rock your world tonight." Peter changes their position, getting Stiles fully naked while he settles down onto his knees in front of the couch. He bites the inside of Stiles's left thigh this time and smirks when he feels the boy react.

He squeaks and jumps at the bite, but watches Peter with want. "Wh- what are you gonna do?"

"What does it look like to you?" Licking up the blood that runs down Stiles's leg, Peter kisses his pale skin everywhere he can reach, slowly moving closer towards his groin.

"Oh my God..." He pushes his hips forward, body demanding more, and he watches Peter like he can't even believe what's happening. "Are you gonna blow me?"

"Mhm," Peter purrs and nods, licking his lips before he licks along the underside of Stiles's cock for the very first time, eyes fixed on his responsive face.

Stiles moans, loud and low as he throws his head back and settles his hand in his alpha's hair. He's so hard, so slick already, and his head is absolutely swimming in pleasure.

It doesn't matter what his partners look like down there, Peter is a fucking pro at sex. And with oral being his favorite, he takes his sweet time taking Stiles apart with nothing but his mouth, never even once acknowledging the additional hole between the boy's ass and cock.

Peter could go for much longer, he's sure, but he definitely can't. His virginal sensitivity, the living fantasy, Peter’s expertise… it's only minutes before his grip tightens and hips thrust powerfully forward. His scream is at least half growl as Peter pushes him over the edge into overwhelming bliss.

But that doesn't mean Peter stops. He sucks Stiles through his first climax and just keeps going, lapping up the precum he can get and also using it to slicken up Stiles's ass with one fingertip.

He shudders and tries hard to pull away at first, way too over-sensitive, but as his cock calms so does he, and soon he's pushing in again. "Y- you can do more. You can touch me more there, if you want, use more of the, um..." He trails off.

"Use more of your cum as lube," Peter suggests with a hungry grin. "You bet I will. But first I wanna taste you some more. You're so fucking perfectly sweet and bitter baby, just like your scent."

Stiles blushes at that comment, turning his head away bashfully. "Peter..." It's actually a really, really nice thing to say. "More, please."

"I want all of you." Peter dives back in, working Stiles's cock with dedication and expertise, making him drip more and more so he can push one and then even two fingers into the boy's ass, carefully angling them to find the spot that gives him the most stimulation.

It's really not that different than most boys, a few inches in and angled upwards makes his whimpers turn more into cries. By the time Peter gets a second finger inside of him, Stiles can't even think anymore. Everything is gone from his head, words included - it's all just noises and hip movements. He spreads his legs wider to let Peter have every inch he can.

And Peter takes, just as promised. It's true that he's a rather selfish man but not when it comes to those who are actually close to him. Peter is rock hard, his cock leaking a steady stream of precum but all he focuses on is bringing Stiles another orgasm. Well, that and getting him ready for his soda-can of a cock.

Stiles gives up two more before he's stretched near enough for Peter, each one shuddering and screaming and pushing and bucking up against his alpha's tongue and fingers.

Finally, Peter gets up again with a smug grin on his face. Stiles looks pretty debauched already and he loves it. Waiting for his beta to catch his breath, Peter pets his hair and then leans down for a kiss, giving Stiles a taste of himself.

He's hungry when they kiss, lapping into Peter's mouth without hesitation and biting softly at his lips. Words are still elusive but his eyes are begging for what he prays is coming.

Gently, Peter rearranges them on the couch once more, allowing Stiles to lie down and relax completely while he gets between his legs, glad that his leather couch is so damn big and nice. Well, he's a man of class, after all. "Still want me, pup? Still want your alpha to fill you up and fuck you until you scream his name?"

He nods enthusiastically and finally finds words. Well, a couple of them, anyway. "Please! Please please please please please, fuck me!"

God, how can someone be so cute while also being so dirty minded. Peter chuckles and grabs some lube from a small drawer next to the couch. He doesn't wanna rely on Stiles's cum alone to slick the way and yeah, the boy loves pain but that might end up being a little bit too much for their first time. "Remember to breathe," Peter orders and then starts to push in his lube-glistening cock.

That reminder seems so unnecessary, so pointless, until Stiles actually feels Peter press against him. His eyes go wide and his brows furrow and he can't decide if it's too much or if it's the best thing he's ever felt, and yeah, he definitely forgets to breathe for a moment. He draws in slight breaths between pained moans and pleasure-filled sobs as Peter gets ever closer to seating his too-big cock fully inside of his virgin body.

Peter takes it excruciatingly slow. Excruciatingly for him because fuck, all he wants to do is slam in to the hilt as fast as he can. But Stiles deserve a little adjustment period. When he's finally inside of the boy all the way, Peter stills, focusing on Stiles's pulse, scent and expression to make sure he's okay.

It's definitely right up against the line of too much, and for a few long moments Stiles doesn't actually know which side of the line it's on. He reaches up for Peter, silently begging for him to lean forward so that they can touch, so that his alpha's skin will make everything melt away again.

His alpha complies and leans down, kissing Stiles and letting him wrap his arms around his muscular neck. Only when he feels him relax, Peter starts to move a little.

Having him close, his heat and weight right there definitely helps his own body give and surrender. "It's right," he whispers. "This is right."

Peter grins and nips on Stiles's ear. "I would do it even if it was totally and utterly wrong.”

That makes him blush and return the grin. "Well, it is kinda wrong," he toys with. "Corrupting a boy half your age," he teases, distracting himself from the pain until Peter can work him open fully. Then he goes more serious, genuine, but still distracting. "My wolf and I are finally agreeing on something, and it's how completely right and natural this is with you."

There's a hint of emotion crossing Peter's face but he tucks it away even faster than it came and just keeps grinning as he pulls his cock out almost completely. "Look at it that way, I have double the experience of anyone you've ever been with. And I'm naturally talented."

"Doubling zero still leaves you with zero," he smiles, being a little bit of a brat. "I'm ready for more, a little faster, please."

"Ready?" Peter smirks and suddenly slams his whole cock back into Stiles. "It'll be a long time before you're actually, truly 'ready' for me.” 

Stiles cries out and grips Peter's shoulders painfully hard by reflex, nails digging into his skin. "T-too much, too much," he whines. He's not fragile anymore, his body can clearly handle it, but that doesn't make it pleasant. 

“That's what I figured," Peter teases and just rocks his hips slightly, waiting for Stiles to adjust once again. "Never forget who and what I am, boy." 

"Alpha," he grunts out. "My alpha," because that's the part that really matters. 

Which is true and Peter flashes his red eyes in response but it's not exactly what he meant. Still, he just leans down to kiss Stiles and lessens the pain as much as he can.

That does wonders and his body relaxes considerably, allowing pleasure to take over, and granting Peter much more freedom. He continues to hold himself close, breathing slow and deep as the intimacy of the situation begins to wash over him. Tears gather in his eyes, the swirl of pain, pleasure, fear, gratitude, and _love_ overwhelming him. "Peter, Peter, oh God, I've never done this. I've never even let someone touch me. It's so much, it's _too much_ , please don't stop."

"Never?" Peter asks, slightly surprised and immediately struck with awe. "I'm your first?" 

His grip tightens and Christ, his hips start working all on their own, rocking faintly. "Yeah. My first for basically everything." 

Fuck. And just like that, Peter's self control is gone. He growls sharply and his hands pin Stiles's wrists over his head. "You're mine?!" he asks somewhere between hunger and disbelief. 

Stiles whimpers, caught off guard, and nods with wide eyes. "Yes! Of course I am! Peter, _please_ , please fuck me, I need this. I need you,” he says with a voice full of desperation. 

He's into claiming and purity way too much to stay calm and Peter slams home, starting to fuck Stiles for real now. His eyes glow and he wolfs out ever so slightly, fangs and claws showing. "Mine. Mine, mine, mine," is all he can say, his wolf taking over. 

It really is too much, Peter is so big, so rough, and Stiles is so inexperienced. Were it not for the abilities Peter had granted him not two days ago, he wouldn't be able to take it, but at the same time, that's exactly why he loves it so much. He tugs against the pin, reinforcing to himself his own helplessness, and watches his alpha's face with a swirl of worry and want. "Yours. Yours, Peter, all yours. You made me, I'm yours, Alpha, always."

Unable to explain how or why it happens, not even sure it’s entirely the fault of the wolf in him, Peter suddenly howls and with one harsh thrust, his knot is growing and he pushes it inside of Stiles, locking them together. 

That pushes him past his capacity and he screams, then sobs, completely overwhelmed. His head and his body are too consumed with Peter and what he's doing to him that Stiles doesn't even notice that his own wolf has come out in full force, claws and fangs and golden eyes that don't leave his alpha's for a second. 

Ecstasy washes over Peter and he smashes their mouths together for a truly wild kiss . He pants, slowly finding his way back to himself as he fills Stiles with his cum. 

It's _weird_ , that foreign, slick feeling inside of him, and between that, the pain, and the throbbing of his own cock, he doesn't have space to think. "Alpha, alpha, alpha," he murmurs, seeking comfort and relief from all the raw feelings, physical and emotional, that he can't even begin to wrap his head around. 

"I'm here." Peter kisses him again, much more gentle this time. "I'm here baby, I've got you." He lets go of Stiles's wrists and brushes one hand over his forehead before cupping his jaw. "Always." Fuck, where is this storm of feelings coming from?

When his arms are free, he wraps them around Peter and watches his face, finding solace there. "Need you, Peter," he says with a small voice. 

"You've got me." His words hold much more truth than they should but he can't bring himself to care about that right now. Instead, he brings his hand down, claws retracted, to stroke Stiles's cock. 

Stiles gasps and his hips bolt up into the touch, which tugs on Peter's knot and the pleasure-pain puts him on a hair trigger. 

Immediately, Peter's fingers still and he grins. "Feels good, huh? You like my knot?" 

Stopping is the cruelest thing Peter's done to him all night, he's pretty sure, and Stiles whines. "It hurts, but... but yeah, I do. A lot, just like I knew I would." 

Black veins running down Peter's arm for a second take the pain away from Stiles completely. "There, that should be better." He keeps grinning, still not moving. 

He whines again, frustrated, and starts to rock his hips, seeing friction for his cock all on his own and pulling against the knot with the movement. 

Immediately, Peter growls sharply and pins his hips. "No, not like this, pup." 

“Fuck," he gasps breathlessly. The assertion of control riles him up more, and his body is demanding he do something about it. "Peter, please. Please, please, I wanna come again," he begs helplessly, not fighting the pin at all. 

Teasingly, Peter rocks his hips to move the knot inside Stiles. "You wanna come? Then tell me again who I am to you." 

"My alpha. You're my alpha, my," he bites into his lip, trying to keep a word out of his mouth despite how insistent part of him is. This feels so right, like nothing could ever possibly be so fulfilling, so good, but after half a second, wisdom wins out and he lets the word fade away. "My mentor, my friend, my keeper, my _lover_. You're my alpha, Peter." 

And if he's honest, he had been waiting for exactly that word. But because Stiles manages to swallow it down, so does he. "And I will be forever. Because if you dare to leave me like you left Scott, I will kill you," he whispers heatedly instead, kissing down Stiles's neck. 

"Yes. Yes, yes, forever, oh God, Peter." He arches his neck, pushing into the kisses and letting himself melt away into his alpha's affections. "Forever. I need you, Peter, I'll never leave you, I love you, please keep me forever."

The ‘I love you’ breaks his hard demeanor but Peter gets it back under control quite quickly, looking at Stiles with a grin. "Good boy. And good boys get to come on their alpha's cock." He takes any remaining pain away from Stiles so all that's left is pleasure and then jerks him off while rocking his knot back and forth. 

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," he chants, louder and louder, but it's only seconds before he cries out wordlessly and throws his head back, his whole body arching into Peter as his orgasm rockets through every nerve. 

The tightness of Stiles's body milks Peter's knot once more and he growls, his cock twitching inside the boy as he watches him fall apart. And he doesn't think it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Definitely not. 

He collapses, exhausted in the wake. His cock is sore, been worked way too much tonight despite how incredible every second of it has been, and Peter's knot is quickly becoming painful, his hole tight again as his arousal ebbs out. He whimpers softly and asks, "Can you make it go away or is it stuck like that?" 

Gently, Peter moves them around so he's spooning Stiles from behind. "I can make it go away but I don't want to," he answers bluntly, taking Stiles's pain once more with just a kiss. 

Stiles nods, submitting to Peter's will without a second thought, and lets his eyes fall closed. "Christ, I'm exhausted, and we're like five hours from my first moon. I'm so glad I have you to see me through it." Because it goes without saying that as caring as Scott would be in that situation, he's pretty clueless. 

Smiling crookedly, Peter presses another kiss to Stiles's neck. "You should sleep. I'm going to watch over you and keep you safe," he offers quietly, glad he doesn't have to face his new partner. There's just too much going on in his heart. 

Content, exhausted, happier than he can ever remember being, Stiles takes the advice readily and lets himself fall asleep in Peter's arms, knot still buried inside of him.


	7. Chapter 7

Evening slowly sets in. Stiles is working on some homework, trying to get what he can done before he loses the rest of the night to... whatever this is going to be. The moon rises, and Peter begins to check on Stiles often, looking at him for signs that something is changing. The differences come on too slow, they're too subtle, something isn't right. With the moon solidly in the sky, Stiles is still pouring himself into his textbook, except rather than the usual nervous chewing on his lip, he's biting down on it. Instead of his usual interest in the material, his eyes are intense and hardened. Instead of his foot bouncing like it constantly is, he's totally still, motionless, absolutely controlled.

Peter finally clears his throat. "Look at me, pup." He approaches the dining table Stiles has been working at. "Tell me how you feel right now?"

He looks at Peter without even thinking about it, and then swallows thickly with how much he hates that question. "Tense. Angry." _Afraid of myself_

Nodding, Peter points at the full moon behind his back through the window. "Get up."

Again, Stiles does as he's told. His fingers curl, hating that his body is just _doing that_ , but he can't keep total control. "What?" His tone is terse, but there's little doubt his frustration is only directed at himself.

"Turn," Peter commands calmly. "It's a full moon, you should be a lot more hairy at this point."

This time he fights it. "I don't want to be," and there's definitely a defiant edge to his tone.

Arching an eyebrow, Peter just scoffs, amused. "I don't care. I'm your alpha and you will do as I say."

He takes a few deep breaths, grounding himself. He knows he can't keep this up all night, but still. "No."

Okay, now they're starting to have a problem. Peter's eyes aren't glowing red just yet but something is shifting in the air between them. "I'm going to say it nicely one more time and then I'll use my alpha voice and it'll hurt. Turn. Now."

His eyes soften, fear overcoming stubbornness. "Please, Peter, don't make me. I don't want to do this."

"Why not?" No one could say Peter wasn't be able to hear the voices of reason these days. "I think you're forcing your wolf down and you need to stop."

"I, I," he stutters a minute, trying to figure out the words for his feelings. "I can't do this again. I can't let something take control of me. I know you say you can keep me down but I, it's just," tears are gathering, "It was _so bad_ last time."

He nods. _I figured as much._ "Stiles, the wolf isn't some other creature. He's not a monster or even an outside force. He's you."

"No... He's... yours is you, you were born that way. Mine is... Mine is... it isn't me. It's new and it's different and it makes me think and feel things I never did before."

"No, it's not. It might enhance things. Offer a different point of view than before. A wider viewfinder. But that's it." Peter turns slightly, teeth and claws elongating, jawline changing. "I didn't put a new soul into you. I just gave it a new shape."

Stiles looks like he's going to cry and he doesn't believe Peter, doesn't think Peter can possibly know what it's like to have never had this inside of him. But still, he knows he can't hold himself together all night even if his alpha didn't force him, so he does as he's told. He steps closer to look at the moon.

Said alpha steps behind him and places both hands on his shoulders. "Look at it that way: if you can't believe it's a part of you then it has to be a part of me. I gave you the bite, Stiles. Your wolf comes from my wolf."

"Your wolf is terrifying," he mumbles, but he can't deny how comforting it is to have Peter's touch. Looking at the moon is stirring feelings inside of him that he's pretty sure have no names, and his resolve is swiftly cracking.

"You love me and him for it," Peter whispers with a smirk. "Come on, I want someone I can run through the night with."

"We're going _out_?" Fear and anxiety spike hard again. It eats away more of his willpower, and he's shifting without realizing it.

"Not tonight," Peter is quick to reassure him. "But once you've learned how to be one with your wolf."

"Oh thank God," he whispers and his shoulders relax some. Some part of him is starting to feel more at peace, the harmony setting in slightly. The rest of him, though, is a mess of anxiety and wants he doesn't understand. "Closer. Hold me more, please," he says softly.

Peter pulls Stiles closer, his back to his chest, and wraps both arms tightly around him, caging him in. "I've got you, pup."

Anxiety ebbs away significantly, part his own always-been-there reaction to affection, but also very much this new part of him. The moon is amplifying it, and Peter is too, and the way it's drawn to Peter's, dedicated and _in love_ , soothes it and Stiles by extension. The harmony within himself is getting stronger by the moment.

"That's it, that's my perfect beta," Peter praises quietly, kissing along Stiles's neck. "Breathe, just breathe and let your wolf breathe as well."

His jaw drops open and he gasps quietly under the attention of Peter's lips. His wolfish features are out in full force now, and Stiles still doesn't really notice, but this time because he's so wrapped up in the touch of his alpha. Maybe getting too wrapped up, with the way his lust is so quickly building.

Of course, Peter can smell it and he grins. It only makes sense that Stiles's wolf would also enhance their sensual and sexual connection. "Maybe I'll hunt you next time. Make you run from me in the preserve and go after you like you're my prey. Pin you down once I've got you and take you right there and then."

His eyes widen. To his human side, that sounds like a wet dream, and to his wolf it sounds like play time, pure exhilarating fun. "Yeah, yes. As long as we're far away from anyone else. Any, um, human anyway." Sheepishly, he admits, "I wouldn't really mind if there were other wolves around."

"I can definitely ask Derek if he wants to get a glimpse," Peter teases with a dark chuckle, one of his hands moving up to Stiles's throat now.

He moans at that powerful hand. "I do sorta wonder if his feelings for me make him only jealous, or if he'd still have a good time with anything he could get." Yeah, he's actually entertaining the idea.

Peter's voice vibrates with a low growl. "He's not going to get anything but the permission to watch. You're _mine_."

His cock swells with arousal, and that he _does_ take notice of. "That's what I want," and the admission is bolder than his last. "I want someone to see the way you take me."

"Yeah? Well, in that case we should get Scott as well. He deserves to have someone to show him what a true alpha-beta connection looks like."

Stiles groans and he pushes back against Peter, rocking his hips. He starts talking much more quickly, like the excitement of a puppy bubbling up. "Fuck, Alpha, _yes_. You'd knot me again, right? I, fuck, that would be so good. I wish we had a bigger pack, one who loved to watch how powerful you are, how you take me." His fantasies and confessions are getting away from him again.

 _Sounds like there's a bit of an exhibitionist in you, baby boy._ "Give it some time. In a few years we just might. And until then..." Peter pushes his slowly growing cock against Stiles's ass. "Until then we'll just practice all the ways I can and will wreck you."

"Yes! Yes, yes, Peter, please." Aggression isn't the instinct that seems to be taking over him, not like it was with Scott or Liam. No, with the way Peter touches and baits him like that, it's definitely lust.

Fuck. Stiles keeps smelling more and more delicious and really, Peter doesn't see a reason **not** to fuck his boy. "Please? Please what, fuck you? So get down on all fours and present for me, baby."

Stiles is embarrassed as fuck by the demand, but also insanely eager. He breaks out of Peter's grip and strips down completely because who needs clothes anyway? Stiles starts with his pants and underwear, they're unusually uncomfortable, and then gets off his shirt and socks. He's hard, thighs are slicking just a little, and he's _bigger_. Not hugely so, but given that he was already big for his biology, he's now got a size to rival cis men.

Peter can't take his eyes off of him. _God, you're so fucking beautiful._ Part of him wants to say that out loud but that part is quieter than his inner beast, which just growls with hunger.

With a nervous lick of his lips, he turns away from Peter and drops down onto all fours, knees spread and front lowered to give the best view possible.

"Yes, just like that." Peter licks his lips and palms himself through his jeans before he takes off his shirt. "Hard and dripping for me, the best combination possible."

Stiles shivers slightly, like he can feel Peter's gaze on him. “Please. Please, Alpha. _Breed me_." His tone is sure, deliberate, like there’s no way this is the first time that's crossed his mind.

With a click of his tongue, Peter steps closer. "Breed you?" He chuckles and opens his belt, dropping his pants and boxers to the floor. "Do you even know what you're asking for, little wolf slut?" _Do you even know what you're doing to me like this?_

It does strike Stiles that, no, he really has no idea if what he's asking for has some meaning he doesn't know. But he trusts Peter not to take advantage of him, not to cross any boundaries without very express consent, so, "I need you. I need you to breed me and knot me, _Alpha_ , even more, _so_ much more than I did last night."

Peter wolfs out more, growling as he lowers himself down almost onto Stiles. His voice is deliberately soft though. "You know, there are stories about alphas that were so potent, they could even impregnate men..."

That sends a shiver down his spine, and a tiny, helpless whine escapes his throat. " _F-fuck_ ," it's making the monster inside him all the more desperate and needy. He whispers "Please," over and over, back arching to push his ass in the air just a little more.

"Is that what you want?" Peter fakes surprise. "Swell with my pups, show everyone how much of a precious bitch you are to me?"

Another helpless whine. "I need it. I can't help it, I just, I need it. Every part of me is aching for it, please, oh God, please."

It's almost as if Stiles's wolf really sees Peter as his mate. _Dangerous._ "Lucky for you, I'm a generous god." Slowly, Peter slides back so he can spread Stiles's ass cheeks with his fingers, purring at the tight pink hole and the black curls surrounding it. He bends down and starts licking over it.

 _Yes, yes, ye- What???_ Stiles whines again and bites his lip to keep himself from objecting. It feels, no, it _is_ so fucking strange and foreign and frankly weird, but it's also his alpha taking good care of him and he's not about to protest that.

Especially because Peter is a master of control when it comes to his shift. Slowly, his tongue starts to change, to elongate and get more flexible as he pushes it into his boy, working him open.

He's breathing heavily in no time, biting into his wrist instead of his lip because his fangs are too much for the delicate skin. His toes curl and he actively tries not to tense as a response to the bizarre sensations. _Trust. Just trust and give yourself to him,_ a voice inside of him insists.

With his saliva and his experience, Peter has Stiles open and even gaping slightly surprisingly soon. A wolf's tongue is a very strong muscle after all. Carefully, he pushes in two fingers next. "Talk to me, pup, tell me how long you've waited for the moment where you could just do this. Admit how much you want to be _mine_."

"Years." And he really didn't mean to admit that, but his wolf is absolutely not about to let him hide anything. "I, um," he clears his throat. "It was an accident the first time, I was having a hard time getting off and you just popped into my head. But then... then it was you every time I was having a hard time. And then it was you, just, like, every time right from the start. I've wanted you to touch me like this for so fucking long, Peter."

That's better than he had expected really and Peter has to bite back a needy moan. "T-tell me what you thought about, baby boy. Every fantasy you've ever had about me, I want to make them all come true." He pushes his tongue back in to help his fingers. He needs to be inside his boy.

It's _really_ not easy to focus like this, not between the pleasure and the strangeness and the wolf wanting so badly to become nothing more than instinct. He pushes himself, though, because Peter told him to. "I have a lot of, of, um, _moods_ ," he starts with, "So there are a lot of kinds of things. B-but your teeth... gentle or making me bleed or anything in between, I think about your teeth every time. And caging me in. Sometimes on my knees, you pounding away at me like a dog, with your arms and body trapping me. Sometimes me on my back all wrapped up in your arms, hot and gentle."

The phrase _'like a dog'_ makes Peter groan and he smirks against Stiles's skin. "You know I can shift into a real wolf now, don't you? Maybe that's something for taking you in the woods as well." Reaching between Stiles's legs, he starts jerking him off while he adds a third finger.

Stiles whines at the tease, but it's certainly not much of a protest. Fingers- No, god, and actual, full _hand_ wrapped around his cock is the last straw for his intellect and heavy breaths shift into panting as all of his features give way to the werewolf. He growls softly, a show of his impatience rather than any hint of defiance.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Peter mutters, this time unable to help himself. He pulls back his fingers and gets some lube out, generously pouring it all over Stiles's eager hole. "Brace yourself, pup. I'll show you what getting bred by your alpha really means."

“ _Do it_ ," he growls again, arching his hips to put himself completely on display, both holes now glistening and his cock standing proud, reddened, needy.

Without another moment of hesitation, Peter lines himself up and pushes into Stiles's eager ass, groaning and wolfing out himself from the pleasure.

It's just as much too much as last time. Stiles grits his teeth and quietly snarls a pained warning, but that's pure instinctual reflex, he doesn't mean it. He stays still, though his claws dig into the hardwood a bit, and allows his alpha to take the lead.

Instinctively, Peter takes his beta's pain, making sure that Stiles can relax underneath him. He also goes after his cock again to add a layer of pleasure.

He moans, but his voice is different, it's lower and rougher and remarkably inhuman. "Breed me," he manages to mutter out the only words his head can still find.

Yeah, that definitely sounds like the full moon is in Stiles's system now. Peter grins and kisses, then licks over the back of his pup's neck. Seconds later, he fully slams home, right when he gives Stiles a hard, deep, claiming bite.

Stiles cries out under the onslaught of so much sensation all at once like that, his hole tightening and cock twitching when teeth sink into his flesh. He rocks his hips on that huge, beautiful cock, his body working to serve it without a single thought in his head.

Peter isn't exactly more human either. The perfect, tight heat of his boy's body is dragging him to the edge of sanity and his hips start moving on their own, fucking Stiles into the floor almost, while Peter's teeth keep him in place.

His voice is going to go hoarse with the way Peter is making him growl and whine. It takes all his strength to keep himself up and not just crumble beneath the onslaught from Peter's hips. He stays rigid, pushing back against every wild thrust.

Peter lets go of Stiles's neck but only to let out a howl. A truly alpha worthy howl, making the floor shake together with his harsh, brutal movements. It's purely animalistic at this point, his knot forming already. But he doesn't forget about Stiles's pleasure, doesn't forget about stroking his cock.

That sound makes him lose it, every shred of him surrendering to his alpha, to being bred, and he lets go of a howl of his own as his body lights up with pleasure and his orgasm rockets through his brain and abdomen and cock. His body is so given over to it that his slick is forming a small puddle beneath his body, his other hole drooling a long, sticky line to the floor with how utterly given over to arousal he is.

Any other partner's climax had never that much of an effect on Peter. Never that much satisfaction. But with Stiles? Knowing that his beta has come causes Peter to get fully erratic, pushing to get his knot inside so he can finally, finally breed his _mate_.

He should not think like that. He can't let himself think like that, not after successfully suppressing that connection for years now. But his wolf doesn't care anymore. 

" **Mine!** "

"Yours!" Stiles responds through gritted teeth, that enormous knot splitting him apart for a second before all pain ebbs away because if his alpha's mercy. He rocks on it, his body eagerly working to milk out every drop he can possibly get as he cries out for his lover with a sob of pleasure and satisfaction. "Yours, yours, fuck, Peter, yours, alpha, **mate**! My mate!"

He doesn't really know how to react to those words. Peter's brain just short-circuits into nothingness, white bliss, his orgasm and the feeling of closeness to Stiles drowning out everything else. Another howl, louder even in the beginning, that slowly melts into a desperate, overwhelmed whine. Peter wraps around Stiles and just holds on. He covers as much of his boy with his own body, rolls over to the side and just clings, completely out of it, like his life depends on it.

He's panting heavily when Peter readjusts them into cuddling there on the floor, and the feeling of being stuffed full of that knot is almost all his body can process. That and the total relaxation of every over-spent muscle in his body. His mind, though... His mind is _blank_. For the first time in his life, his thoughts are silent, his head blissfully empty, there's nothing but a sense of peace and balance and _rightness_.

In contrast, Peter's mind is really loud. He knows his wolf, knows the power of the full moon and for almost all of his adult life he's been a master of control. Himself, the shift, his healing, his emotions... all of it. Only that right now? He can't. He hangs onto Stiles like he needs him to survive and a very animalistic part of him truly believes that he does.

Peter had known that Stiles was his mate the moment he smelled him for the first time. Out in the woods. While being feral. And he had spent the last years, basically every second of his new life dealing with the idea of not being able to ever be with his true mate. But now, all of that is breaking apart. And while his wolf is stupidly happy, there's a recurring string of memories in Peter's head. Stiles throwing a molotov cocktail at him. Stiles setting him on fire to kill him. Stiles telling him that he should be dead. 

He can't trust him. _He can't love him._


End file.
